


His Demon: Burn the Ashes

by Dustybaby



Series: Supernatural Imagines [43]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean, F/M, Protective Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-22 00:45:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 44,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3708883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dustybaby/pseuds/Dustybaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Sam finding you and Dean together after your last encounter with him.<br/>When hell comes knock on the door, the three must band together or face it as every man for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burn the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part 3 of an ongoing series.
> 
> Thanks to Jessabelle!
> 
>  
> 
> The characters Sam and Dean are not mine but all other parts of this work belong to me.

I stood in the bathroom doorway as Dean looked up casually to the sound of the banging door. I felt my guts twist sharply and all the blood still in my borrowed body. My mouth fell open as terror filled my lungs and clenched them tight keeping sound in.

Dean rose from the bed, naked and stunning looking with strong arms and legs, then moved for me. His hand wrapped around my neck and pulled my head towards him. He kissed me roughly with his plush lips smashing against mine.

Sam banged on the door again. The sound was rumbling and vibrating the wood.

"Damn it Dean!" Sam shouted as he pounded on the door.

"Now Sammy... where'd you learn that foul language?" Dean sighed and turned for the door then ripped it open. I tried to step back but Dean's firm hand kept me there.

Sam stood in the cool night air staring into the room, at me. The look of horror on his face was devastating. Sam's eyes hardened as Dean took us back from the bathroom door to the bed. I was still naked and I knew how it looked and smelled. There was no hiding it. No hiding that I played Sam.

"Dean, we can fix this.” Sam said with ache in his voice.

"Really, Sammy?" Dean asked, “I don't see anything that needs fixing. I'm happy like this."

"I don’t care what you've done... i just want to bring you home." Sam said looking at me. I pulled a shirt from the floor and covered myself up.

"What life time movie did you steal that from?" Dean mocked Sam, "I'm here to take you home... wow Sam."

"Dean, we can cure you. We know how..." Sam pleaded.

"Sammy, I am doing just fine." Dean grabbed my wrist and then into him. His arm wrapped around my waist, he buried his face into my skin and took a breath in that gave me chills.

"Then why did you bring me here?" Sam asked, "Why did you use her as bait?"

"Because Sammy, I knew you'd take it." Dean smirked and tilted my chin up; he kissed me and stroked my cheek, I couldn’t help but smile like a dumb school girl, "A cute demon  
girl who can lead you to me... How could you not take the bait?"

"So this was a fucking game... toying me around?" Sam hissed with eyes glaring at me, boring a hole into my skin.

"I should go..." I said pulling away from Dean, feeling uncomfortable in my skin and the lack of clothing.

"Stay." Both brothers commanded in unison. Dean pointed to the bed and my legs went weak.

"She wasn't supposed to fuck you... she's been punished for that misbehavior on her part." Dean said with a voice like smooth glass. His eyes were wet, black and cold as he glanced between Sam and me.

"You're a fucking demon, Dean." Sam said with disgust.

"It’s a great upgrade, if you ask me!" I grinned at Dean. He smirked back at me with a mischievous glint in the veiled eyes. He slowly turned to his brother and dipped his head; his shoulders slumped slightly as he stood tall. 

“She’s right, ya know.” Dean replied with a casual voice as he moved a little closer to Sam, making his brother step back.

"You don't get an opinion." Sam hissed at me, I wanted to drop my head but pride took over and I stood up, “Dean, let me help you. I know that you don’t want this... please.”

“Sammy. This is a blessing.” Dean said with a softer voice than before. I leaned forward and grabbed for my clothing only to get a glare shot back at me.

“No.” Sam shook his head as I pulled my clothing on. There was a palpable tension in the room that was throbbing between the two men and I could feel it on the verge of erupting. I didn’t know what to do but something in my gut told me to act. Standing in jean and a bra, I moved past Dean and to Sam.

“Sam, there is nothing wrong with Dean.” I said softly.

“Shut up, bitch.” Sam growled but never took his eyes from Dean.

“I know that you are… upset because I used you.” I said slowly walked towards Sam, stopping inches from him. I could feel Dean as he watched me, knowing he was skeptical as I slowly strolled up to Sam. I placed a steady hand on his forearm, which he pulled back from me. His eyes snapped down to me and glared at me. Sam’s hand shoved me back.

“Hey!” Dean snapped and yanked me back to his side.

“Get rid of her and come back with me.” 

“Not gonna happen, Sammy.” Dean said with a firm voice as his hand let go of my arm. I picked up Dean’s jeans and handed them to him. Sam eyed with so much anger in his face that it almost offended me.

“I’m not leaving without you.” Sam said firmly.

“That’s not an option.” Dean sighed as he stepped into deep blue jeans, zipping them up and stretching long as he rubbed his belly.

“This isn’t a debate, Dean. You can come willingly.” Sam paused and pulled a silver flask from his jacket, “Or I can make you.” 

Dean chuckled and shook his head. My eyes scanned the room and looked for a shirt. 

“I don’t wanna do this Dean.” Sam said with heavy remorse in his voice. Dean stepped up and invaded the space between him and his brother; I watched Dean’s jaw clench and 

Sam hold his breath. Seconds passed in silence as the two men sized each other up. 

“What I thought.” Dean laughed in Sam’s face. I pulled the tank top over my head and stepped back. 

I heard the sound of the cap flipping from the flask and the harsh hiss of skin burning as holy water splashed Dean. Dean’s shoulders shrugged forward as he growled and hissed in pain. I could feel the burn on my skin as I watched Dean steam. I gasped and froze in place as Sam wielded the demon knife, the serrated edges gleaming in the light as if it were a warning to me.

Dean snarled and rose to his feet. A hard fist slammed into Sam’s face and sent him back, stumbling. Dean attacked, throwing his brother to the floor and straddling his chest; he slammed a fist into Sam then hit him again. Sam bucked him off and landed a big boot into Dean’s side. This sent Dean to his side but didn’t faze him. He got up and chuckled then got Sam’s fist slammed into his mouth. 

“Stop!” I shouted and tried to step in. Dean’s arm shoved me back hard and sent me into the desk as he slammed the other fist into Sam’s side.

The two men fought in the room, Dean slamming Sam into a wall and Sam jamming his hand into Dean’s face. I felt my legs starting to shake as the lights began to flicker. I looked around the room feeling anxiety clenching my throat.

“Guys.” I said keeping a casual cool voice with a fear biting at the back of my throat. As the words slipped out, the blinds over the windows began to shake violently enough to bounce them off the glass and into the room. I glanced out the window and saw the lights outside flickering as if they were struggling to stay alive with worn filaments.

Both brothers stopped fighting; Sam’s face bloodied from Dean’s knuckles, and Dean’s face with dried blood and healing wounds from Sam, and then shot an identical glare to me. I opened my mouth as the windows and mirror in the room exploded into a million slivers at us. I dropped down and covered my face

“Crowley?” Dean shouted with an angry voice. I looked up and quickly jumped up. 

“We gotta go!” I shouted at Dean. Sam slowly rose as if his muscles ached and looked at me. A piece of glass stuck into the sleeve of his jacket with deep red weeping from the sliced material.

“How long?” Sam asked with that vicious snarl. He flipped the knife in his hand and clutched the handle. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise as the knife moved steadily in his hand. Everything in me wanted to run but I stood my ground. I felt Dean’s eyes staring through me.

“Seconds!” I replied with a slow blink and soft words that came out like a whisper, “You probably should go… do this.”

“What did you do?” Sam shouted at me with the knife point wielding at me. Dean grabbed my arm as Sam moved for me. 

“I’m sorry.” I said breathlessly. I felt Dean’s fingers tighten on my skin and knew that I fucked up. I knew that these boys were ruthless and I double crossed them; there was no way that I was getting out alive.

I stood firm for a moment and closed my eyes. My teeth gritted and I held my breath. I heard feet move and Dean snort.

“You look like your about to shit.” Dean growled at me.

My eyes popped open and I blinked hard, confused and slightly upset at the fact I wasn’t being exorcised or stabbed and sent to hell.

“But…I.”

“Yeah, you betrayed me and blah fucking blah.” Dean growled grabbing my arm and slamming a pair of a jacket into my chest, “We gotta go unless you wanna go back to hell and deal with Crowley.”

I shook my head and looked to Sam. He glared at me as he picked up a duffel from the floor. The room was shaking so hard it threw me to the side and I stumbled into the bedside.

“Are we working with him now?” I asked. I put a hand out and used Dean to help me balance as I pulled myself up with the bad on my shoulder.

“Yes. For now.” Dean replied as he grabbed his things.

His hand gripped mine and yanked me out of the room as chunks of the ceiling fell behind us. The concrete was splitting under our feet as the familiar scent of sulfur filled the air and a deep bellow of a hellhound echoed in the distance. We ran to the Impala across the parking lot, I stopped before getting into the back to see the motel room fill with thick plumes of black smoke and sparks, which was our cue to make an exit.

There is something about the rumble of the Impala’s engine and the low hushed voices of Sam and Dean’s voices that puts me at ease; it is a strange safe feeling that is edged with suspicion. I don’t trust them but for now we are fugitives from hell’s reign, so I had nothing more to bet on than the three of us.

In my head, I was trying to plan my next move. I couldn’t run, not with Crowley on my ass and the Winchesters who would knife me and leave me for dead. I could try to manipulate my way out via one of the brothers but that could backfire. Sam glanced back at me with a stern look on his face then turned his head forward as he shook his head. I frowned at the back of their head and huffed a little.

Sam, the human. He was emotional and tender but had a brutally cruel side to him that he only displayed in the moments where they were needed. Not to mention, he had no issue with fucking me into the mattress, hard and rough and calling me a whore when he was done. I had played him once and I knew that I couldn’t get through him again.

Then there was Dean, once a human now a Knight of Hell. He was a true beast, cold and callous in a fight. Unafraid to cut down someone without a second of hesitation but, when you got him behind closed doors he was unafraid to grab my throat and fuck me until I was almost unconscious then would hold me as we both came down, whispering sweet nothings into my ear until I would pass out. 

The idea of going against them again was not an option; I invested myself into them and I was screwed either way. The Winchesters were a black hole, a collision course that had pulled me in and there was no escaping now. Both men were fucking paradoxes, unsolvable equations.

“Where are we going now?” I asked with revulsion in my voice from the whole situation.

“Someplace. Sit there and shut up.” Dean said with that familiar darkness to his rough voice as he gripped the wheel tighter.

“Why’d you do it?” Sam asked as he shifted on the seat to face me. The soft expression of confusion on his face made him look younger and made my guts churn with unnecessary  
excitement.

“It’s my job,” I stated harshly, making sure to overcompensate the anger that I had not been feeling. I felt like I had to cover my vulnerable feelings, any spare emotion that wasn’t dark would be fuel for a fire and mistaken as weakness. I refused to let either of them see me weak.

“Bullshit.” Dean snorted as he took a hard right off the highway and onto a dirt road that was overgrown with tall grass and thick underbrush, tall trees with long limbs that extended over each other and blanketed us below, cutting out all the pale ghostly moonlight overhead, suffocating us in darkness painted with the artificial light from the dashboard.

“Spill now or Sam sends you back.” Dean’s voice was firm as he turned back to me. Both sets of eyes stared at me, gleaming in the low light.

“You’re not gonna like it…” I replied with a sigh before continuing on, “I was contracted by Crowley to occupy a vessel that would be appeal to both of you. I was supposed to spy on Dean and report back to him as far as his movements and try to urge him to do the demon thing.”

Sam’s face pinched and rested into the signature bitchface that I had grown to love.

“But Dean was intoxicating and frankly doing what we wanted, whenever we wanted was way more fun. So Crowley yanked me back and told me that the mission changed. I needed to find Sam and bring the two of you together. You both get trapped together and then off Sam.” I paused for a breath and re-evaluate their faces, “Turns out Sam was even less pliable than Dean and I stopped feeding Crowley information and went with it. I toyed with Sam at Dean’s orders and brought him here… then last night; Crowley sent a message saying that if I didn’t turn you over that I would be brought back for reevaluations.”

“Last night happened and I made the call… now I’m here.” I said crossing my arms over my chest and falling back into the vinyl seat.

“They were gonna kill me?” Sam asked incredulously as he glanced to Dean then back to me.

“Probably have Dean kill you himself when he was all demon-y.” I shrugged nonchalantly then locked eyes with Dean, “With you gone Sam, Dean would have nothing left to keep himself even remotely human, it was a good plan. I had to be the fly in the ointment.” 

Dean snorted and shook his head then parted his lips, “Yeah you were.”

“So, what now? We hide out until the world ends?” I asked.

“Nope. Sit there and shut up. Oh, try not to tip off the demons and get us all killed.” Dean growled with a sarcastic smile. Dean turned away from me and hit the accelerator.  
I huffed like a spoiled child who was told no then slumped in the seat. I watched the darkened scenery pass and tried to relax

A full day passed, spent in the car going from the northwest to the Midwest. We stopped at two truck stops and two diners to eat and fill up but nothing more. My ass was sore from the seat and the abuse it had taken from Dean as I slipped out from the seat for the last time into a halogen lit minty green garage with cars lining the walls. The place was pristine and looked fake.

“Never thought I’d be back here.” Dean said low in his throat as he moved for the trunk of his car.

“I knew you would be.” Sam snorted as he approached me and slapped a set of archaic looking shackles to my wrists. My eyes snapped from Sam to the cuffs at my wrists that  
were etched with something into the heavy metal. I pulled my arms from Sam’s but it was pointless.

“Demon proof. Keeps you from smoking out and wandering where you don’t belong.” Sam smiled. A low growl came from somewhere deep in my chest, like a trapped animal. I thrashed slightly and tried to get away but Sam wrapped arms around me. 

He lifted me off the ground and over his shoulder then carried me into the adjoining hall. The chains form my shackles clanging and swaying as we moved.

“Damn it Sam. Put me down.” I hissed and kicked my legs. Sam took on the weight and adjusted his gait to compensate for the movement but kept walking. I stared at the concrete flooring, still cussing and hissing as we moved into another room, the floor changing to a nice tile floor from the concrete. The lighting around us changed from the cool blue to a warm orange glow that changed the feeling in the room. Sam placed me in a chair and stood back from me. Dean was behind him, half obstructed from my view by Sam’s shoulders. I moved my legs and felt my skin bristle as my insides flopped anxiously. There was licks of hot fire in my muscles, a burning pain in my joints that made me want to jump out of my skin. I glanced down to see the bright orange trap painted underneath the chair and shot a look up to Sam, feeling genuinely betrayed.

“I’d say don’t move but then there’d be no point to waste the air.” Sam smirked and he pushed his finger into my nose and booped me. I felt flushed with anger and a slight arousal that swam in my stomach.

Sam turned away from me and looked at his brother who was staring down at me.

“Family meeting, now.” Sam said with nonsense in his voice as his fingers motioned away from me and started moving to that direction. Dean’s face had a smirk on it with raised eyebrows and bright eyes that stared through me.

“Don’t go nowhere, doll.” Dean winked then followed Sam.

Sitting in the chair, chained down was the worst thing in the world. I groaned and leaned my head back as the sounds of Dean and Sam’s voices echoed off the walls and towards me with low undulating tones that could almost be melodic. There was the sound of skin slapping on what I assumed would be a countertop. 

Then hard footsteps rushed for me.

“Dean, it will work!” Sam shouted.

“No Sam, no it won’t and you know why?” Dean said as he appeared into the room. Sam was trailing behind him with an impatient look on his face.

“Dean, it will work.” 

“No because there are too many variables that we haven’t thought about!” Dean shouted.

I stared at the two men with confusion written all over my face and filling my head. My head lopped to the side as I stared at them then sighed. Sam crossed his arms over his chest and frowned as he huffed out air.

“So, I take it that I am not going anywhere any time soon but can I at least have movement in my legs?” I said cutting he silence between the brothers. Dean slowly turned to face me then slowly smiled.

“She’s my responsibility, let her go and we can figure something out.” Dean growled at Sam as he moved closer, his body staying a safe distance from the devils trap, neither one of us were sure if he would be trapped but the odds were not in his favor. Sam huffed a little then moved to my side quickly as he scraped the paint from the floor.

The pressure and pain in my body ceased. He removed the shackles and stared at me. The look on his face was bitter as he scowled. I smiled at him as genuinely as possible.

“You can put traps near the things you want to keep private, Sam.” I said quietly.

Sam glowered as he got up and moved to the table. He leaned against the wood and crossed his arms over his chest. I felt a warm calloused hand take my elbow and pull me away from Sam. Dean’s arm wrapped around me and his chin rested on my shoulder.

“I’ll keep her under control.” Dean rumbled as he squeezed my side and made me squeak, “Relax Sam.”

Five days were spent researching, eating and between the sheets with Dean. We were no closer to figuring out our next move and even more frustrated. The Winchesters argued like cats and dogs with no stop in sight. Sam was pushing for something that Dean kept turning down with the same reason that no one would predict what would happen.

Sam sat across from me flipping through pages of a large text with a thick leather cover and worn binding. The level of frustration and exhaustion was all over his face, once a puppy of a man seemed withered and worn like the book in his hands. Dean had disappeared into the depths of the bunker, in his room most likely to sulk or sleep and left me alone with Sam to scour any source we could to find a way of out the Mark or knock Crowley back.

“What do you keep arguing about?” I asked quietly, peering over my shoulder to make sure that Dean was out of the room. He had shut me down at every attempt when I brought the question up to him. I gripped the book in front of me.

“Why do you care?” Sam replied without looking up, flipping the page with force. I folded the page of the book at my fingers slightly then smoothed it down.

“Because, I know it’s about me. I want to keep hell off our heels and if I can stop that… then I want to help.” I said feeling the words jumble in my head and fall out like a tangled mess. What I intended was more elegant and laced with humor. My fingers fumbled with the paper and I got the courage to look up at Sam. He was staring at me with hard eyes and his mouth pressed into a straight line. It was a look that a disappointed parent would give their child and it weighed hard on me as I accepted the look.

“So… what is it?” I asked again.

“Did you know that there is a way to cure demons?” Sam said as he dropped the pen in his hand and closed the book on it. He leaned forward on his elbow and staring at me with hard eyes.

“Not possible.”

“Oh it is, we did it to your buddy Crowley.” Sam said with a salty tone, “Or at least we started too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I want to cure you. Take that demonic card off the table but Dean thinks that once we cure your ass that you will go back to being his girl like you were before and I assume you wouldn’t like that he’s a demon.” Sam said leaning back and put his hands on the top of his head.

“The person I was before was, is…Dean just doesn’t want two hunters to deal with.” I said with a flat voice, “And he isn’t my buddy. Crowley.”

“So, you didn’t take over some helpless girl?” Sam asked with the corner of his mouth tugging upward, “You picked a fucking hunter.”

“No. I am many things but dumb isn’t one of them. Hunters are strong and for the most part trustworthy, how do you think I have survived this long?” I shook my head, “A hunter girl taken over by a low level demon.”

Sam said nothing as he stared at me with no humor in his eyes and a frown.

“What do I have to do?” I asked Sam as I balled my hands up tight from the nerves that was brewing in my belly.

“Nothing, sit there and take it.” Sam said as he stretched long in his seat with his arms placed on the arm rest.

“That’s it?”

“No. I inject you with blood that’s been blessed then exorcise you and poof, you’re a real girl.” Sam spoke as he stood up. His voice was so thick with sarcasm and exhaustion that it made me feel tired.

“Oh.” I reply unsure what to say, feeling the blood in my veins thicken and my heart beat decrease as I watched him move away from the table to the book case, “Would it work on… Dean?” My voice soft and full of conspiracy as I stared at his back. I watched the muscles under Sam’s grey shirt flex as he paused and breathed deeply.

“That’s the idea.”

“I’ll do it.” I said with hesitation in my voice, feeling the words slip from my lips before I could stop them, “I know that Dean will not like it but he isn’t my father nor I am betrothed to him so, I’ll do it.”

Sam turned to face me with a puzzled look on his face, soft like deepened around his eyes and his mouth rested into a smile. His weight rested into the book case as he examined me, I shifted in my chair and fiddled with the paper again. I felt queasy, maybe even excited as Sam took his time to respond.

“Do we have a deal?” I asked with a smile as I got the courage to stand up, feeling my knees wobble slightly then harden. Sam laughed and shook his head, sighed.

“Making deals are we?” Sam teased, the tension sliding from his shoulders as he moved to the table.

“It’s what I’m good at.” I replied unsure to my commitment but refusing to show it to him.

Choosing to leave Dean out of it, Sam and I slipped into the dungeon. It was dark and smelled slightly damp. I expected to hear the skittering of rats along the side of the walls as we moved through the hall. Sam was taking long strides full of confidence as he clutched the cooler with the blood red cross in the front. I wanted to play it cool and on the outside I was, but inside I was terrified. I picked up the pace and joined Sam.

He glanced at me and gave me a sympathetic smile.

“We don’t have much time.” Sam said quietly as he pushed a wooden door open with a gold embossed with ‘7B’ on it.

Following him in, I stopped dead in my tracks at the giant open room; the singular chair in the center with chains attached drooping over the armrests, was ominous. I held my breath and took three more steps in.

“Sit.” Sam’s voice was rough as he placed the cooler on a table near the door. I moved to the chair but couldn’t make my legs work right. I stood in front of the chair then turned back to Sam.

“What if this doesn’t work?” I asked feeling my throat go dry as I sat gingerly in the seat as if it was going to electrocute me on contact.

“It’ll work.” Sam said as he strolled over to me; I slid back in the seat and let Sam encase my wrist in one of the shackles. I stared up at his face, feeling panic wash over me. I pulled the wrist away from Sam but he was already one step ahead of me as he clasped it shut around my wrist. Sam quickly restrained my legs with rope that kept me to the chair.

“Sam.” I said through gritted teeth and glared up at him.

“No turning back now.” Sam’s voice was cold as he turned away from me. I slammed my wrists down and struggled to no avail. Sam turned back to face me with a syringe filled with deep red, “Ready?”

“No.”

“You committed to this.” Sam growled as he paced towards me. I clenched the muscles in my arm as he lowered the syringe to my skin and jabbed it into me. I let out a yelp and slammed my wrists on the chair. Under my skin was swirling hot, burning pain through my body like a wildfire in the summer as it consumed everything. I sucked in air and chewed at my inner cheek to keep from yelling out for help.

“This is gonna only get worse.”

I hissed out air and dropped my head to my chest. I felt my bones aching as I took in another deep breath.

“Keep them coming.” I huffed.

“Planned too.” Sam said with no emotion. I lifted my head to see Sam lifting another syringe and moving towards me. I gritted my teeth and stared him down.

“You do know-“I snapped but was cut off as the needle rammed into me as I shouted out from pain. This time the burn was stronger, filling in the spaces between the bones and sinew with molten lava. The ache moved through my veins and worked its way through me. I could feel the sweat beginning to form just under my skin. I dropped my head again as I pulled in more air to make the burning stop but it did nothing.

“Shh!” Sam hissed as me as he glanced back.

“Fuck you, Sam.” I snarled.

“Is this where the ‘real demon’ comes out?” Sam mocked me.

“The only reason Dean is a demon is because of you.” I hissed at him, glaring and breathing heavily.

“I didn’t give him the Mark.” Sam said confidently as he turned to face me with another needle in his hand.

“No, but you pushed him away. You told him those horrible things and made him hate himself even more.” I said with a strange feeling of bitter pride.

“Dean lied to me… Dean put an angel in me!” Sam snapped at me but stayed planted against the table.

“You’re the one who killed Kevin.” I replied coldly.

The words forced Sam from his spot. He walked over, rammed the needle into my skin, and plunged the blood into me. I let out a scream this time as the needle bit into my skin and blood seared into my body. My body rocked against the chair and the chains rattling them harder. I needed to fight; I needed the burn to end.

“Shut your mouth.”

“What’s wrong… you can’t handle the fact you killed him.” I smiled, knowing it was wrong and the words were empty but I also knew they would hit close to home. I watched as Sam’s shoulders hunched down and his body looked strained. The words weighing on him and making all the guilt come back.

Sam said nothing as I threw every insult I had at him, instead making a point to inject me without hesitation, each time making my insides hotter, an unstoppable inferno. Hot coals under my skin, covered in sweat and needing for the pain to end. I couldn’t stop panting, my lungs aching and the feeling of my throat aching from the screams.

Sam stepped out of the room and left me alone. I was weak and felt like I was going to fade away. My body dipped in the chair, my chest sagging and shoulders slumped forward.  
Half blurred images of everything I had done filled my head. Moments spent with Dean and the lies I fed to Sam. The feeling of manipulating Sam in my hands and the grime under my skin of working with Crowley filling my head.

“Sam!” Dean’s voice clipped into my ears and my head weakly lifted in time to see Dean stalking into the room. I closed my eyes and felt the energy drain from me.

“Dean, we are almost there.” Sam’s voice sounded in the distance.

“You’re killing her!” Dean shouted back. The sound of a scuffle and shouts that were unintelligible echoed in my head until it was filled with silence. There was a pinch but this time there was no fire to follow.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, hanc animam redintegra te rogamus, audi nos.” Sam’s voice, this time tender as the Latin spilled out sounding as he was speaking to an infant, “purificatur!”

“Sam!” Dean’s voice cut in as if to stop what had already happened.

“Lustra!”


	2. Sweetness Never Lasted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being cured, there are some adjustments that have to happen.  
> Dean is fighting a battle that he is keeping everyone in the dark about. What they don't know is something dark is lurking around the corner, hissing and sptting venom and fire that is determined to burn everything that Dean cares about to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is mine.  
> The characters aren't but I like to use them as my little muses.
> 
> Thanks to my lovely beta/cowriter, Jessica A.
> 
> Enjoy!

“What the fuck did you just do?” Dean snapped as he pushed past Sam, as he watched her head that had drooped to the side as she fought to open her eyes. Her chest was rising and falling, staggered, like breathing was a struggle. His guts clenched as tight as his fist and he fought the urge to ram his fist into his brother’s nose.

“Dean, we did what we had to do.” Sam’s voice was shaking as he cupped her face and tilted her head up to his.

“No.“ Dean felt the bitterness in his words as he snapped but a small sound stopped him.

“Stop.” She croaked out and forced her eyes to open. She squinted as if the lights were bright and hurt her. She took a moment then her gaze focused on Sam’s face. Dean stood beside them and stared with a laser focus on her. His brother’s forehead was creased; his eyes were scanning her face as his mouth fell open. He smiled and exhaled as he ran his thumb over her cheek.

“Babe?” Dean’s voice was shaky as he stared at her. She looked smaller, weaker than he’d ever seen her look before. Inside he was battling the urges to beat Sam senseless for doing this to her, run because he was out numbered and the urge to steal her away to nurse her back to health like his own baby bird with a broken wing. He dropped to his knees in front of her, her head turned slowly to him as a soft innocent smile turned her lips upright. Sam moved to the side and let him in.

“What?” She said softer than a coo as she tried to get up from the chair, “What happened?”

“Take these off, now…” Dean growled as he cupped her face and tilted her head from side to side examining her. Sam moved fast and worked to free her. Rage was swirling around inside of his chest as he watched her rest limply in the wooden chair.

“How do you feel?” Sam asked with a curt voice. Dean’s head snapped to Sam, and an elbow slammed into his ribs. Sam glared at Dean but it didn’t faze him. He was worried for her, whatever Sam did could have done damage.

“Like I lost the fight…” She murmured as Dean lifted her into his arms. Sam fussed over her, wiping at her face and pulling down the hem of her shirt to cover her belly that was bruised. Tears rolled down her face as her lower lips quivered.

“Not now Sam, damn it!” Dean growled as he carried her away, out of the dungeon and into the hall. His legs seemed to move slower than he wanted them. His head was filled with the idea of her dying in his arms and the idea that he wouldn’t care as much as he knew deep down he should. He shook his head.

“What happened, Dean?” Her words whispered in the dark hall as her head fell into his shoulder. She seemed lighter in his arms, as if he was carrying a wounded child.

“Nothing baby, you need sleep.” Dean murmured as he hauled her through the bunker and into his room.

He laid her down in the bed and stared down at her. She was breathing softly, a sleeping beauty in sweaty blood soaked clothes. His heart seemed to dip as he moved in close to her. He could see the puncture marks in her arm and neck, the redness from the cuffs and the dark circles under her eyes.

He could smell the crisp smell of blood and the tang of something different, an unfamiliar smell that was almost bitter. This was his fault. He put the demon in her; he manipulated her into this life. Now she was broken and battered in his bed. He gathered his thoughts and shoved them down deep. He didn’t have time to wallow; he needed to get her cleaned up. He pulled the soiled clothing off and changed her into one of his shirts. He took a wet rag to the dried blood and cleaned her off with careful precision. He pulled her hair up and away from her face. She looked peaceful as she rested on the pillow; he stroked her cheek and tried to relax. He knew it was useless, he could leave the room and fight with Sam but he didn’t have the energy. He sat at the desk, pulled the hidden bottle of bourbon from the bottom drawer, and took a long swig. It burned going down and sat in his belly like a lead weight.

It took a while before he could bring himself to bed; he rested his body beside her even if his mind was still racing. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him. He could feel her heart thumping against his skin. It felt wrong holding her like this because he didn’t deserve it. He was a monster keeping her captive. Sleep came quickly, like a smothering hand over his face that rendered him useless.

Morning came just like a kick to the ribs, an unseen weight pulled him from sleep but he stayed still. He felt her stir beside him. A small hand touched his and squeezed it carefully before lips touched his skin.

“Morning beautiful.” He whispered.

“Hey.” She rasped out with a dry sounding voice and stretched her muscles, making sure to rub her ass against him to keep his attention.

“How ya feeling today?” he nuzzled her neck then kissed her soft skin.

“Like I got in the ring with a hellhound…” She said softly as he stroked her arm with calloused fingers. He chuckled and pulled her close.

“What happened last night?” She asked gingerly.

“Well, depends on what you remember?” Dean asked with the playful tone.

“I remember walking into a scuzzy motel and finding you with Crowley… then I don’t know, it’s spotty.” She whispered and shifted slowly to face him. Her bright eyes scanned his face, like something in her head was trying to remember something. A memory or a moment that was not hers.

“Never mind that… We should take a shower and eat.” Dean kissed her lips. He dreaded this; he didn’t know how to explain. How could she not remember everything… what would he even say. He panicked and started to shut her down, “I could eat… I’m starving.”

Dean ran a hand up her soft back and held her closer to him; a cool chill ran his spine as he pulled them out of bed. They showered together and he bandaged her forearm and neck making sure to cover the puncture marks. She asked a million questions but he was able to dodge them.

As they dressed for the day, he listened to her humming an unfamiliar song. Her hands wandered his back as he pulled on underwear and jeans, it should have been a turn on but instead it was more like being gutted. She placed kisses on his spine before he turned to face her. He faked a smile and kissed her forehead.

“You okay baby?” She asked.

“Nothing. Just tired… and hungry. Food… now.” Dean gripped his stomach dramatically and pushed her to the door. She frowned at him like she knew he was keeping something from her but didn’t know what.

The day was spent indoors, movies and food. Dean avoided conversation at any chance. He couldn’t tell her, he couldn’t risk it. She was still weak and he could smell it. The smell was like masking cyanide with sweet red wine, it was there but faint. Maybe it was an infection, maybe it was the smell of her soul being cleansed of the taint of demon but it turned his stomach.

Her head was resting on his knees as Me, Myself and Irene played on the television, but over the sounds of Jim Carrey’s antics he could hear her lightly snoring. His fingers pushed through her tangled hair and stroked her scalp. Dean felt the coils of something dark, insidious filtering in his head. He was trying everything to keep from breaking down, getting violent and hurting Sam or her… anyone who was in a close proximity. He knew that he was volatile.

‘Poison.’

‘Heartless.’

‘Murderer’

He shook his head hard and closed his eyes before reaching for the remote and flipping the television off. It was quiet in the bunker, low lights flooding the floors as he lifted her from the couch and cradled her in his arms. She was a reason to keep from going back to darkness, not to kill and deal in souls like he was supposed to. Sam was the other reason; he’d do anything to keep them alive. To keep them breathing. Maybe that’s why he did it. He thoughts drifted back to what had happened.

That night, rain soaked and shivering she stood in the door of the motel room. It had been weeks since he’d seen her or Sam. Even longer since he left her in a main room of the bunker with an angry promise to be back, weeks since he hit Sam in the face and went after Metatron alone. The sound of bones breaking and the feeling of metal pushing through his chest, nicking his heart and feeling the sheer pain tore through his body. But she found him in a seedy motel in Wisconsin, kicked in the door with a gun in hand and ready to take down whoever took him from her. He could feel the anger in her body as she stepped into the room, melting into confusion and almost sadness. They fought for a moment but it was quick. He had her pinned down as the door creaked open with Crowley stepping in. He shot off a one liner about a threesome.

“You gonna help?” Dean asked.

“Don’t. Dean, please.” She hissed and fought against his strong hands.

Crowley smirked. The room filled with smoke, thick and dark like feathers of a crow. The fog was full of something evil, something that was going to surpass all the parts of her that made her wonderful before and wash that away with darkness. She screamed and thrashed against him, until she was still in his arms.

“Thick as thieves.” Crowley had called them. She followed Dean’s orders, hung on his words and would do anything to make him happy, it made him feel a little guilty but he loved the control over her.

“Must be nice keeping a pet…” Crowley would hiss, reminding Dean that he could pull her away from him with the snap of his fingers, making the hackles raise on the back of his neck and his whole body want to revolt against itself.

“Come on, Dean. Let me play… I can do this.” She whispered in his ear with a smile. Big bright eyes that were so convincing.

“We need to talk.” Sam’s voice cut into the memory and pulled him back. Dean looked up to see Sam in the doorway, the light shining in from behind him like some angelic glow. His brother dropped his head and turned away. Dean glanced back and slowly rose from the bed. Sam sat on the edge of the table with his hands folded in his lap. His hair was messy and tucked behind his ears; he was still the same little boy that he remembered making microwave dinners for and patching up wounds for. Crying out for that stuffed bear that John hated.

“We gotta talk about it man.” Sam said with a low voice. Dean felt a heavy weight hit his shoulders as he stood across from his brother.

“Alright, talk.”

“What does she remember?”

“Nothing, Sam.” Dean replied trying to keep himself civil.

“But, she’s cured?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, for all intents and purposes, she is cured.”

“So what now?” Sam asked with a sigh, his hand rubbed his neck as he sat upright and stretched his spine longer.

“She isn’t back to normal, she needs to recuperate.” Dean stared at Sam. The words were hollowed out even though he was aching for something to make him feel normal.

“I’m okay with that… are you?” Sam lifted his eyebrows and stared at Dean’s bare forearm. The scar was red and violently aching deep inside of him for some kind of carnage. Real visceral violence that would stain his soul a little darker and push him a little further down the rabbit hole.

“Yeah Sam. For fuck sake, I am not some heathen… I can keep my shit together while she gets back into fighting shape.”

“I’m just saying that, if it worked for her… it will work for you.” Sam offered.

“No.”

“What?”

“You heard me Sam. There is no cure that is going to fix this… it’s in me. It’s not a demon that’s inside of me…” Dean trailed off and scoffed as he shook his head. Both men stood silent for a moment, Dean was trying to find the right words for how he felt. Sam dropped his head and crossed his arms over his chest as a protective measure, his mouth opened as he inhaled as if he was preparing for a fight.

“You think that you’re the problem.” Sam stated.

“Sam.”

“No, you think that you are I don’t know, Dean. Broken…” Sam paused, “And that maybe because you are broken that you are the reason she is like this…”

“I am the fucking reason for it!” Dean shouted at glared at Sam, “I put the demon in her!”

“Demons ride their vessel hard and you know that… this isn’t your fault Dean.” Sam’s voice softened.

“I’m not doing this right now, Sam.” Dean shook his head as his fists clenched and unclenched.

“Fine… we will stay here for a while until she is back to her old self.” Sam stood and put his hands up as a white flag. The tension between them was thick and palpable.

“Damn right.” Dean said before stalking off to his room.

“We had a run in with Crowley recently right?” She asked as she sat at the other end of the bed, dragging a nail file across her nails.

“Uh, why do you ask?” Dean felt himself jump a little, unintentionally.

“I keep having weird dreams… like vivid ass dreams.” She smirked with a little chuckle as she looked up at him, “Your brother's been in my dreams too… I kill people.”  
Dean swallowed.

‘You’re a heartless monster, Winchester for doing this to her.’ Crowley’s words echoed in his head.

“You okay?”

“Great.” He lied.

“You’re lying…” She said softly. Dean stilled, his eyes trained on her as she moved onto all fours. Her body moved towards him in a slow motion crawl, “You’ve turned me down every… time… I do this.”

She crawled into his lap and kissed his lips. His hands held her hips; she felt good in his hands and kissed her back.

“We are all alone… no Sammy and it’s been a while…” She bit her lip then kissed him again.

“You are still sick babe.” Dean said hating himself for turning her down. She pouted and fell back her shirt flipping up and showing her belly.

“I just want you to fuck me, Dean…” She grumbled, “Because I feel just fine, Winchester.”

“When you are back to normal.” Dean reassured her then leaned forward to kiss her exposed skin.

It didn’t take long for cabin fever to set in; Dean could feel it in his bones how antsy he was. Sam was cranky and chose to use short clipped sentences when he spoke to Dean. He needed to get out of the bunker, choosing to spend his time in the firing range or napping. She was better and starting to piece things together, he had done his best to dodge all questions and tried his best to give as vague of answers as he could be it was becoming exhausting.

Dean woke up alone. His heart was already beating fast as he threw the blankets back and padded through the bunker with bare feet thwacking rapidly on the floor. He pushed his legs to move faster as the sound of her voice angrily echoing off the walls.

“It’s not what you think!” Sam’s voice was defensive and sharp.

“I was a fucking demon, SAM!” She shouted as Dean came around the corner.

"Dean’s a demon too!"

"No he’s a fucking knight of hell Sam!”

“Shh!” Sam hissed back then let his eyes meet Dean’s. Sam’s eyes went wide and his face bleached out.

“He’s been avoiding it, Sam! He is evasive and won’t answer my questions… Which is almost as bad as lying to me,” She continued only pausing to take a breath, “But Sam, I am sleeping in a bed next to the very thing that I should be sending back to hell but I fucking can’t because it’s Dean! I mean how am I supposed to rectify that with myself. I mean come on Sam… we gotta do something to fix this!”

“So cat’s outta the bag, huh?” Dean said as he took two steps into the room. He watched her spin around fast and step back nearly running into Sam.

“Dean. I didn’t-”

“I heard.” Dean cut her off and inhaled through his nose, he needed to stay calm. This was not the time to let himself lose control. He could easily subdue his brother and her but he didn’t want to, “You’re right. I have been avoiding your questions because there is no easy way to say sorry you were a demon and so am I… hallmark hasn’t made that card yet.”

“So… I was a demon.” She said with no emotion in her voice as her face went hard as stone.

“Yeah. I am a demon.”

“Can we cure you?” She asked deadpan as she folded her arms over her chest.

“No. It won’t work; I don’t have black smoke for insides.” Dean smirked, “Maybe the power of love can heal me.”

“I could just kick your ass for what happened then?” she glared.

“You could try.” Dean tensed. He felt the heat starting to rise to the surface of him at the base of his neck as he watched her moved gracefully to him. His fists were tight and felt heavy. She stood in front of him, wearing his worn thin racing shirt and a pair of tiny shorts with messy tendrils falling over her shoulder. He knew that she was trying her damndest to appear bigger but she never would. He stared down at the scowling little face with freckles and long eyelashes.

“Or we could work a job?” Sam offered with a hopeful voice. He cleared his throat and turned away from them. She turned her head sharply and stared at Sam just as he had.

“You found a case?” Dean asked trying not to smile because he needed to work. He could feel it in his bones that being cooped up was going to drive him to be reckless and this was not the time to do that.

“Yeah, it came up yesterday. In Dahlonega, Georgia four kids have gone missing and two others have been found. One child, Thomas Clinton was found deceased with his liver missing and a puncture mark the size of a baseball. The other child, Alannah West was found with her inside liquefied. Same markings on her body but the wound had been what appeared to be cauterized.” Sam said lifting up a manila folder with the men of letters Aquarian star on the front of the jacket. They symbol for protection was mocking Dean, making him ache for something he needed but couldn’t have.

“So, has this happened anywhere else? What are the connections, if so?” She asked with the same fire that Dean had been feeling at the idea of a case. Hope, maybe even a little too much excitement.

“Uh, about every ten years, the surrounding counties, Jasper, Ellijay and Blue Ridge have had the same thing. Whatever it is, it can travel because they aren’t taking like a ten minute drive… I’m talking at least a two hour drive on back country highway.” Sam said pulling his lap top from the table, “All little kids, mostly orphans or latch key kids, all taken and bodies are torn to shreds usually found within a week of the kids going missing.”

“Okay… what are we waiting for?” Dean said. He watched both Sam and his girl turn to face him like he farted in church. He shrugged and paused for a moment, “I’ll be packing. We leave in an hour…”

She sat in the back seat of the Impala. The scenery passed us by, the lush and green trees. There was a stream to the right of us and woods to the left. Skynard was playing softly as Sam spoke about the case. Sam’s voice was firm, an unusual position to take for him but as of late if was becoming something I was used too. He was too consumed by his own thoughts to pay attention to the words. Dean’s eyes were fixed on her in the back; soft hair was tucked behind her ear as she stared out the window.

“What is the mother’s name again?” She asked Sam as her bright eyes locked on to Dean’s.

“Selma Clinton, 38. Single mother…” Sam said quietly as the sounds of the computer keys clicking. Dean pulled the Impala along the streets paying attention to the signals and pedestrians, “She was working when her son was taken.”

“I couldn’t imagine.” Her voice called from the backseat with a stain of sadness that followed it. He wondered if she was thinking about what she would feel like if this happened to her. He pulled into a cheap motel and parked outside the lobby. Sam disappeared into the office, his long body moving gracefully.

“Sam should go to the morgue and we should talk to the victim’s mother.” She said with a certain coldness that gave Dean a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. It was the same taste he had when he dry swallowed a pill.

“That uh, sounds good.” Dean said nervously. He mocked his emotions in his head, thinking he was a demon nervous about a damn human girl working with him.

“Quit being weird, Dean.” She chided him as she dipped a little lower in the seat. Dean stared forward and nodded as Sam came out from the office and pointed down the walk way towards the room.

The three of them changed into ‘Fed Gear’, she had the paper cup of coffee and was waiting for the two of them by the door. She had a small bag with files inside. Mostly they were filled with blank papers and the newspaper clippings to make things look a little more real for the interviewing of the mother.

They dropped Sam off and head to the mother, Selma.

The woman lived in a house on Buck Run lane. It was rustic and clean with bright tanned wood trimming that matched the high ceiling. Dean wondered how she paid for the home while the woman walked them through to her kitchen. Selma was a thin woman with long legs and arms that were thin. She was dressed in sweats and an oversized sweatshirt. Her eyes were sleepy with heavy lids and deep purple bag that looked more like bruises.

“Tom was such a wonderful little boy.” The woman’s voice was somber. All the life was sucked from her eyes as she took a deep breath in, “I just don’t know who would do this.”

“I know this is hard, Ms. Clinton but the days before Thomas went missing had you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Anything that just seemed a little odd?” Dean asked as the mother sniffled a little, his girl shuffled a few paper and looked up a little cold.

“Thomas as multiple bruises on his body, the M.E. said that many were at least a week old. Can you explain that?” She asked looking up and staring at the mother with no emotions. The look on her face made Dean’s guts wrench, he recognized the look but couldn’t place it.

“What!” The mother asked looking at her. Dean jammed his foot into hers and kept his face cool even though he was confused.

“I can say it slower.”

“My son was an active kid… he played outside. He had bruises…” Selma said with a hard voice. Her steel blue eyes were even colder now. She scowled at her then turned back to Dean.

“There was nothing that you remember from that day?” Dean asked with a smile.

“No… nothing.” Selma hesitated, “Well, I mean… I remember feeling strange like I was being watched and I don’t know… but I swear that a few days before and the day after Tom went missing I heard like a ticking sound.”

“Ticking sound?” She asked skeptically.

“Like a giant clock would tick, a ticking sound.”

Sam had spent hours researching with her at the library while Dean interviewed the first responding police men. They went over the crime scene photos and the recollection of the police man’s memory of the scene. He listened to the police man with winkles around his eyes and a permanent frown as he said there as an uncomfortable feeling all around. Dean thanked everyone and headed back to the motel, meeting his girl and Sam in the room.

“So, the second victim had the insides been filled with a goo that consisted of human organs, blood and another organic compound that the medical examiner’s office has never seen. But they also found about fifteen baseball sized eggs inside the body.” Her voice as she read off the piece of paper then looked up at Dean.

“But it gets better… the ticking sound the first victim’s mother heard… has been heard before.” Sam paused as he clicked on the computer keys. He turned the computer to face Dean with a wide smile and took a deep breath, “Aswang.”

“Wait… didn’t we hunt one of those with Bobby?” Dean said squinting at Sam as the memory tried to pull from the back of his mind but was cloudy.

“Yeah, I was a little rusty on the lore so I looked in dad’s journal. Apparently it’s like a skin walker. Is normal in the day light, hunts at night and has been reported to make that ticking sound but they do this to throw off victims. Usually they are silent and fast killers, killing for the livers, kidneys or heart.” Sam said as Dean scanned the page.

“Yeah, the ski lodge where the floor collapsed in on us… I remember.” Dean snapped his fingers then scanned over to her. She was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, she was cleaning guns and in her own head.

“How do we kill it?” She asked.

“Uh… well, if we can get a whip made from a stingray’s tail that can kill it. Decapitation is what we did last time… because if I remember correctly, Sam and Bobby were attacked by vampires who were working with the Aswang?” Dean said feeling his brain working harder to remember.

“So, we need machetes.”

“I think we have some talismans in the trunk that will work too. And salt.” Sam added, “They prefer to hide away from the victims.”

“What does that mean?” She growled as she ran fingers through her hair and pulled it over to one shoulder. Dean stared at the bare skin of her neck where faint bruises had begun to yellow.

“It means we get to go hiking.” Sam smirked up at her as he turned his head to face her.

“Great, because I love the woods… when do we hunt this thing?” She asked with a drawn out sigh.

“Tonight.” Dean nodded and smiled at her.

The woods were dark without the moonlight providing any comfort as they marched through the woods. The ambient sounds of night animals chattering and a soft breeze pushing through the woods were the only sounds that could be heard aside from their boots dully thudding on the soft earth. Dean walked behind them scanning the tree line for any sign of movement also catching glimpses of her ass in the beam from his flashlight as it swayed and grinning like a perv knowing he’d never be caught.

“There are cabins just over the ridge.” Sam’s voice was soft as he moved over a downed log covered in moss or some other foliage.

“I hate this case already.” She complained as she clumsily climbed over the log. Her pack heaved to one side and knocked her off balance slightly. Dean reached out for her and kept her upright. She glanced back and smiled at him. It was a big soft smile that made something in his chest flutter. She pinched his chin and kissed his lips.

“Thanks.” She whispered.

“Come on.” Sam hissed as he shined his flashlight in their faces then turned away from them to keep moving forward. She stuck closer to him as they hiked up further, watching as the trees thinned out and became a clearing.

At the crest of the hill it cleared out to a small section of land that was flat, four abandoned old ski cabins with blacked out windows and thick hearty looking logs sat in a foursquare position. Sam turned to face them. Sweat had accumulated on his brow and hair was sticking to his face.

“I’ll take the first two; you and Dean take the back two.” Sam whispered. In a swift move they deployed on the cabins, peering in the windows and trying doors.

The last cabin had windows that were painted over. It made his guts lurch a little but he picked the lock. He opened the back door slowly as clutter and debris hindered it from swinging wide. As he stepped and found the place was empty, the bitter but sweet smell of rotting flesh invaded his nose and made him gag. He lurched forward and gagged feeling his  
throat constrict and his eyes water, tears streaming down his face as the foul smell attacked him.

He turned to call for backup as his skin rose with goose bumps. Hard hands shoved him back into the cabin. He moved past the door and into the middle of the room. He stumbled awkwardly and fell to the filthy floor, which made him retch harder. His flashlight flew back as well as the long heavy machete that was in his hands clunking into a corner of the cabin.

Dead weight slammed into his chest and tightened his lungs making it impossible to breathe. He tried to call out for help as he flailed his arms recklessly, hoping he would hit something tangible but never did. He struggled against his unseen attacker, groaned and gasped for air as the weight became unbearable. His vision spotted over and he felt his head start to throb. Pain echoed through his jaw to his hips as he started to lose the tension in his muscles. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs and scraping at his lungs.

As quickly as the attack happened, it stopped. The pressure evaporated and left him lying on the floor, next to the small decaying body of a child. His hand was pressed into it's softened stomach and leaving it covered in something slimy.

“Oh god.” Dean groaned as he shook his hand vigorously trying to get the substance off him.

“Dean!” a soft voice called into the cabin as a flashlight scanned over him.

“Found it's lair.” Dean grumbled as he slowly rose to his feet. His muscles burning and screaming under his skin as he moved.

“Sam!” She called out and stepped in, “Guess you really stepped in it for this case.”

Her light scanned down his body as his eyes followed. Thick black goo covered his left leg.

“Gross!” Dean shouted as he glanced around the room.

Sam and her scoured the cabin for any clues or something that could give them a lead on the monster but came up with nothing.

“You’re bleeding.” She said with a tender voice as she shined a light on his chest, making his eyes scan down his own body to find the wound. There was tears in his shirt and the faint trace of blood that rippled down the cotton material.

“It's healed.” Dean replied with a shrug as he wiped his hands off on his jeans, feeling ooze still on his skin even though they were still clean. 

The drive on the way back to the motel was quiet. Dean was trapped in his head, going over the attack. The painful crushing weight on his chest, making the ribs feel like they were going to shatter. The feeling of his lungs clenching as he struggled for breath. The feeling of his body unable to fight off something he couldn’t even see. The feeling of his heart pounding in his temples. The sheer panic that took away all his logic and the years of training.

“What happened back there?” Sam asked with a curious but cautious voice.

“Nothing. Did you see that shithole?” Dean grumbled, “Every square inch was covered with yuck… I just fuckin tripped.”

She snickered from behind him in back and Sam smirked then wiped his mouth to clear it from his face.

“Hey, screw you guys. I’m human.” Dean snapped and shrugged away from them towards the cold window.

“Actually babe, you’re a demon.” She commented then laughed a musical sound from the back.

When they reached the motel, all tired and dirty. Sam showered first then his girl followed, trying to get him shower with her but he declined even with her adorable pouty lips and big bright eyes. Something didn’t feel right. There was something wrong, in his head or the room he couldn’t tell but he knew it was off.

As the night settled in and his hunters crashed out into their research, Dean led them to bed tucking Sam and her into beds and turning lights off. He sat in a chair facing the television as an old John Wayne movie played quietly on the screen. He sipped scotch from a plastic cup and balanced his phone on his thigh. Debating his next move unsure what to do. He knew demons didn’t sleep, nor did demons had the need too but he felt tired. His body ached and the alcohol burned in his belly as it churned uneasily. He gave up, knowing he needed the sleep as he pulled his clothing from his body and fell lazily into the bed where she slept. Her body curled around him as she slept in his favorite shirt that was too small for him but perfect for her. He hugged her body closer and kissed her forehead.

The sounds of screams and the smell hot copper and iron filled his nose and jarred him from sleep. He could feel warm slickness on his hands and taste something acidic in the back of his throat. Dean tried with everything to get up but he couldn’t he was trapped to the bed, silently shouting for help as he felt the crushing weight on his chest again. It gone as soon as it came, freeing him from the bed and letting him go with a shout.

He gasped for air and shot out of bed. His eyes darted around the room; he pulled the blankets from Sam and checked him over. Sam sat up groggy with a gun in hand; he mumbled something that was unintelligible. His shaking hands cupped his brother’s face, pushing his fingertips into Sam’s cheeks.

“You okay?” Dean asked feeling manic as he spun on his heels and went back to his bed. He crawled on the bed then violently shook her. Her eyes popped open with surprise as she tried to fight him off. He ran his hand over her skin and checked her for any injuries.

“What are you doing?” She snapped and shoved him back.

‘Monster.’

“Nothing. I just….” Dean replied feeling as if he couldn’t catch enough air to respond the right way. He didn’t know how to tell them without sounding crazy. He backed from the bed with his hands running through his hair and went for his clothing. He stumbled into jeans and a shirt as he scrambled for his keys. His head was cluttered with confusion and a tinge of anger, not sure how to react except running. He was good at that.

“Dean!” Sam shouted after him as he rushed out the door and headed straight for the Impala. He saw a thin shadow running for him and reaching for the door. Bare legs and arms were all he focused on in his confused haze. Dean could feel his muscles shaking, he could feel his guts clenching tight in the same way it felt before throwing up. He revved the engine as a warning for her to back off but she didn’t.

“Don’t you dare?” She hissed through the glass. She was still in short shorts and an old shirt of his that was a little too worn out to be decent in public.

He revved the engine again this time in annoyance and glared at her. He wanted to be alone but he knew that she would chase him down. She pulled the door open with a familiar squeak then sat beside him, slamming the door and turning to face him. He pulled away from the motel and roared down the main drag of the sleepy town.

“What is it?” She asked with a hard voice.

“Nothing. I just need to clear my head.” Dean snapped at her. She moved across the seat at him and touched his arm.

“Don’t shut me out.” She said with tenderness. But the words made his skin crawl; he tightened his hands on the wheel and turned sharply. She slipped across the seat and into the door.

“I’m a demon.” He said coldly, “We aren’t the sharing and caring type.”

“You never were before but you still fucking talked to me!” She shot back, her words like rapid gunfire from assault rifle.

“I’m not doing this with you, not now.” Dean said flatly.

“What the hell happened? Why were you freaking out?” She snapped back.

A long leg stretched over his and felt the warmth of her body seconds before his Impala jerked and skidded on the road as her barefoot connected to the brake pedal. His neck flared hotter and he sharply inhaled. He shoved her back and felt his skin prickle, his heart start to race and the mark burning deep in his skin.

‘Hit her.’ A voice in the back of his head goaded him but he swallowed the feeling and gripped the wheel tighter making his knuckles turn white.

“Please.” She said softer this time with big eyes like a wounded animal.

Dean turned the car around and headed back to the motel, choosing not to speak to her. The words he would say were venomous and dark, words that would hurt her and he wouldn’t do that. He parked the car outside the room and got out, leaving her behind inside the car.

“What the hell, Dean!” Sam hissed as Dean stepped in.

“Drop it, Sam!” Dean snapped and made a bee line for the bathroom. He listened to the commotion through the bathroom door, her yelling and snapping at Sam. Sam snapping back and banging on the door. There was a lull in the room for a moment then the sound of shattering glass, a startled scream, and the sound of something hitting the wall hard making the wood paneling in the bathroom rattle violently forced his body to react. Even if he was a demon, he still had his hunter intuition. This was nothing good and he knew it.

Dean ripped the door open and burst into the room. Sam was pinned on the floor, long pale arms and legs pushing him down as leathery wings and delicate bones snapped like sails on a mast behind the ugly thing and stretched over its head. Dean slammed a boot into the ass of the thing on top of his brother, sending it over Sam ass over tea kettle style but it didn’t stay down. The monster was on all fours, sharp blackened teeth hissing and spitting at Dean with  
fire red eyes. The face was warped, white skin was sucked against the skull, every inch of bone thinly wrapped in paper thin skin and revealing hallowed out cheeks.

“Bitch, you’re ugly!” Dean snapped as he went for a machete that had been lazily sitting on the table top. He swung the blade at the monster but missed as she flew up and over him. 

Sharp pain ripped through his back as he was shoved forward and into the wall. His head connecting with the 70’s floral print wallpaper and making everything rattle in his head. His vision was blurred for a moment then he was back. He reached down and touched something soft and pliant. It was the girl was slumped on the floor, head bleeding from the hairline but she was breathing.

The monster was back on Sam, bony but strong arms holding him down as the blackened fangs lowered to his neck and connected to the skin. Sam growled and shouted, the monsters torso barely budging as Sam pushed his arms against it. The wings folded around them like a veil of thin white lace. Dean gripped the machete tighter and swung. He felt it connect with flesh and bone, ripping apart the monster with ease sending a spray of hot metallic blood across the room in an arc. The body collapsed down on Sam. The wings folding in and withering away to nothing. Pale skin regulating back to soft milky white shoulders and a neck stained red. Sam pushed the body off him and towards the head, where blood pooled around a pretty face with wide red eyes and a gash like mouth stained a deep red. Sam was up on his feet, staring at Dean.

Dean stared down at the blood and the broken room surrounding the body. He felt his own body burning and trembling with the rush of violence in his veins. His hands were shaking and the sweat on his forehead was cool against his skin. His eyes were out of focus as he looked at Sam. Sammy who was bleeding from the neck and huffing hard with wild hair and dumbstruck eyes. His Sammy, once little was now a full grown man, someone who would be in his way. Someone he would take down if he needed to.

“Dean. It’s done.” Sam’s voice trembling as he moved in closer. Dean could smell the fear on Sam, a thick mealy apple like smell that made his mouth go dry. Dean was fighting something that was dying to break out from under his skin, something dark and vile that wanted to keep slicing and hacking away at the Aswang.

She’d hurt Sam. She’s hurt his girl. He needed to destroy the monster until she was nothing more than ribbons and blood.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice was more urgent this time, fear creeping up his throat and making his voice actually shake. His hand tightened on the handle of the machete as his muscles clenched and he pulled in air hard and heavy to his lungs, “Stop!”

“No.” Dean growled, feeling the word roll out of his mouth in a voice he didn’t recognized. The sound was something evil and something violently wild that he knew he couldn’t contain.

“Please.” A soft coo from behind him made him recoil. The burning slowed under his skin, no longer a swelling tide that swallowed the shore inside of his veins. He forced himself to turn back; if he could see her… maybe it would quash the need to destroy. His body moved mechanically as she came into his line of sight.

A small body that was hunched slightly, a trail of blood that moved across the side of her face, the split lip and the faint trace of a black eye made him break. His heart crackled and the anger was gone. He dropped the blade, hearing it clatter to the floor and the sound of bare feet shuffling on the old carpet until her arms were wrapped around him. His arms squeezed her body tight as little fingers pulled at his shirt. One arm released and reached out for Sam. He pulled his little brother in and squeezed him.

 

Relief and gratefulness hit him in the guts and nearly took him to his knees. His eyes that once were clouded, were watering and his heart hurt. As he pulled back and got a better look at Sammy and her, something in his guts flopped. His people were hurt, and that old familiar feeling came back. That ugly black painted guilt that he carried around with him, the guilt weighed on him like a thousand pounds. If only he’d stayed in bed and let the nightmare pass, this wouldn’t have happened. The monster would not have attacked or maybe he could have killed it before it got to Sam and threw her around like a rag doll.

“Let me help.” Dean said with a shaky voice as Sam milled around for the medical kit. Sam looked back with a confused expression. He slowly nodded as he pulled the car keys from broken glass and pieces of wood on the floor. Dean took the keys and rushed outside into the small mass of people congregating around their room. In the back of his head, he knew that they had minutes before the police would arrive.

As he came back, Sam was already tossing his duffle over his shoulder and throwing Dean’s bag at him. The girl was zipping hers up and pulling a black hood over her head to conceal the cut on her body.

“Go.”

As a group they rushed to the Impala and sped off into the night. Dean held the wheel tight and watched the rearview mirror, expecting to see red and blues in the reflection but they never came. His eyes drifted down to her, slumped on the seat with eyes closed and a frown on her lips. That frown was for him and he knew it. ‘This was your fault’ was written on her face, she didn’t have to speak the words for him to hear it.

As he hauled ass out of town and headed for the first rest stop they came to in the darkness, it was surrounded by trees and lit with an orange glow that lent an air of creepiness to the entire parking lot. A large semi with mud splattered chrome rested across the lot from them as the three of them met at the trunk.

“Sam needs stitches.” She said pressing an old shirt into the weeping wound on Sam’s neck.

“Yeah, well you probably do too.” Sam said fussing over her as he pushed up her hair to see the long thin cut on her scalp.

“I’ll stitch Sam up.” She offered with a sweet smile to Sam, she turned back and gave him a defined frown, “Since you can’t do anything but piss and whine about being a fucking demon.”

“What?” Dean asked confused as he took a step back.

“What?” She replied looking even more confused than he felt.

“What did you say?”

“I’ll stitch Sam and you can stitch my head? Can you pass me the suture pack?” She said slowly wrinkling her forehead and smiling slowly as if she wasn’t trying to alarm him.

“Oh… uh, yeah.” Dean shook his head and smiled, “I thought you said… never mind.”

“You okay?” Sam asked with a cringing expression washing over his face as she pulled the shirt from the wound, “Or do you finally realize that you are bringing the team down?”

“I uh… I’m sorry.” Dean said feeling his skin bristle as he placed the suture pack in her hand.

“It’s fine. You are a monster… you can’t help it.” She said turning on him and pulling something from her waistband. It glimmered in the orange glow as she lifted it revealing the sharp point of the demon blade.

Dean grabbed her wrist and spun her away from him. He bent her arm back and made her hand release the weapon as it clattered to the floor. She let out a cry as he slammed her body into the trunk of the Impala and pressed his forearm into her neck.

“Dean!” Sam shouted before grabbing his shirt and pulling him back. He shoved Dean backward and stood between them. The girl slowly rising from the bent position on the trunk to face him, her face now covered in tears that washed a little blood from her cheek.

“She…” Dean started as his eyes scanned the scene, a bottle of rubbing alcohol on the ground as well as a rag next to it, “I just…”

Dean couldn’t speak. His words were stolen from him. Was he losing it? She just threatened him, with a demon blade. 

Where was it? He blinked hard and watched her as she grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him back.

“Can you get us coffee and something sugary from the vending machine?” She asked with a bitter tone.

Dean nodded and watched as they went back to triaging each other’s wounds, talking quietly and trying not to cast a glance his direction. He slowly moved to the machines that were emitting a humming and whirring from the fans to cool or heat them. A man passed by with a puffy jacket and a thick grisly white beard. His eyes met Dean’s and he nodded. His face was familiar but not in the same hand.

“Monster.” The man muttered under his breath. Dean gave him a look but dropped it, feeling too sensitive and unsure what he was hearing.

Dean stood in front of the vending machine. He scanned the items, cookies and chips mainly filled the machine. Unsure what to buy and unwilling to go back to the car he began loading bills into the machine. He picked one of each and let them pile into the catch bin. As he bent to pull the treats from the bin, a chill ran his spine. The sound of howling and growls filled the night air. A familiar scent of hell filled his nose and turned his stomach.

‘Hellhounds.’ He thought as he turned around and saw nothing behind him. He could feel the hot air and the foul rancid breath the reeked like sulfur and wet cardboard. He held his breath and reached behind him for the knife that was tucked into his jeans.

A deep wet bellow filled the air and made his blood boil. He knew they were there and he could see them but the hounds were nowhere in sight. Dean pulled the knife and stood on guard as the vending machine pumped out coffee.

‘Can’t escape this.’

‘Heartless.’

‘Monster.’

‘Failure.’

Voices pumped through air and made his chest tighten. His hands were shaking as he glanced around for the source of the voices. Sam and her were at the car still, she was sitting on the trunk as Sam loomed over her. He spun around and tried to find the sound. He turned again and this time four hounds stood waiting, their skin mealy and moving just below the surface. Blood red eyes and rust colored canines that were bathed in drool. Heavy paws clawed at the concrete as a low foreboding growls filled the air around them.

“Fuck.” Dean muttered as he stiffened, the Mark burning on his skin as he turned the knife in his hand and gripped the handle. He heard the snapping of jaws as he swung out and landed a fist into flesh. The sound of a human like cry pulled him away, into the vending machine. He kicked his leg out, and sent the monsters flying away from him.

“What the fuck?!” He heard a feminine shout and the sound of hard heavy feet pounding the pavement. He looked up and saw her running at him. He looked down to see Sam on the ground with a hand to his face and confusion written across his bruised skin. 

“Sammy?” Dean said with the word rattling in his chest.

“What the fucking fuck, Dean!” She shouted and shoved him away from Sam. Her arm wrapping around Sam and cupping his face. She was protecting him but that was his job. He’d done this. His guts ripped in half as he stepped back and covered his mouth.

“I thought you…” Dean managed out but couldn’t complete his thought.

“What is wrong with you?” She snapped and stood up. She jabbed fingers into his chest.

“I don’t know.” Dean whispered feeling the harsh glare in his chest, “We need to go home.”

“You think…?” she hissed at him as she helped Sam upright.

At the bunker, Dean sat on the couch with a glass of scotch. He knew that he should be looking into what is going on with him but he couldn’t. He’d freaked out and hurt Sam. He was hearing and seeing shit that wasn’t there and everything around him made him question what was real and what was fake. He knew that the Mark made him volatile, but would it make him hallucinate? He could hear the sounds of the shower running and the familiar clunking of the pipes and water tank echoing in the place like a lullaby. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass then tossed back the last bit. He set the glass down and stood up. He gave a lazy stretch and sighed.

As he walked towards the kitchen and rounded the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. His stomach dropped out and he felt his heart stop. His mouth was dry as he opened his mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. He blinked and blinked again.

A man stood in the door way to the kitchen; it was a face he would never forget. Broad shoulders and thick arms wrapped in a grey shirt with hands stuffed into jean pockets. The face turned up and stared at him, almost as if it was staring through him.

“Hey Dean.” A gruff voice with a slight drawl came out as the corners of his mouth turned up.   
“Dad?”


	3. Song for The Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine tryng to fix Dean of the Mark of Cain but there is something else riding him.
> 
> A little spoilers warning from 10x3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoy!  
> I don't own the characters but I love to make them dance like puppets.
> 
> I took quotes from the script and added to it.

 

__

_Then_

_A secluded farm on the outskirts of Werder, Germany_

_Crowley stood next to an old rusty barn on a rundown farm, brushing the pieces of dirt from the lapels of his jacket, huffing hot breath out into the cold night air making a cloud of steam as he casually bounced a little to warm his body. He rolled his eyes and sighed as blood-curdling screams filled the night air around him. The owner was currently suffering from nightmares and could be heard screaming from a small house for miles. He had been waiting for several hours before the screaming began. He was here for something important to his mission. He waited a few more moments before snapping into the dwelling. Inside the bedroom, an old man was thrashing around and moaning. Fighting so hard that he was shaking the bed frame, rattling it against the wall and nightstand. He was caught in the throes of a seizure. His eyes tightly closed in either pain or misery as he tried to catch his breath. Crowley stood at the foot of the bed, watching an indentation in the man’s clothing and bed sheets that suggested something was on the center of the man's chest. Crowley knew the creature would be invisible to the old man, if he were able to open his eyes._

_One of the many benefits to ruling Hell was that no creature was hidden from him. To his eyes, an impish little goblin covered in coarse fur, long ears that rose above its head, gleaming maniacal eyes, and no more than 3 ft high sitting on the man's chest. The goblin was a Mara, the original nightmare. The Mara was working its magic, trapping the old man in a nightmare and feeding on his fear. This was what Crowley was waiting for._

_“Are you almost finished?” he asked with a tedium edging his voice. The Mara looked at Crowley with prickliness in it’s eyes for being interrupted._

_“This human is almost dead! You cannot stop me!” The Mara hissed violently with glowing eyes and bared teeth like knives in a German accent as Crowley wiped the speckles of spittle from his face._

_“Wasn't going to. But I do have a little task for you.”_

_“What makes you think I will help you?”_

_“Who said anything about helping?” Crowley asked with a smirk. He waited a bit, to let the weight of his words take effect. The Mara's eyes widened in fear and understanding._

_“You have blocked my escape. I am trapped here.”_

_“I've been waiting for you. Rather undignified of you to sneak in thru a leak in the privy.”_

_“This man has wonderful fears. Worth the price,” The Mara looked back at the old man for a brief moment, “Too good to pass up.”_

_“What if I told you that there is someone better? And I'm willing to let you have him. Serve me and he's yours.”_

_The Mara looked thoughtful. It watched as the old man's heart finally gave out and his body stopped shaking. The Mara held onto the old man for a few moments more, clearly enjoying its meal. When it was done the Mara stood up and looked at Crowley with something akin to anticipation._

_“What are your orders, master?”_

 

 

Anxiety rippled through his chest as Dean stared at John. He looked the same as he had before, as if he was staring at a photograph of his father. John moved a step closer to Dean, who never took his eyes off him and watched as his father’s eyes scanned him over once with a familiar glimmer.

“Dad?” Dean asked again this time hearing the shake in his voice that matched the way his insides felt.

“Hey Dean.” John said again with a low voice, “You really fucked up this time, didn’t ya?”

“Dad, I…” Dean tried to piece the words together but he couldn’t. The rushing emotions in his head were crushing anything he could say and turning them into mush.

“I told you what you had to do but you are too stupid to do what you’re told!” John growled at Dean as he lost the smile on his lips.

“You have been nothing but a failure Dean.” John sighed as he casually leaned against the counter, “Can’t count how many times you failed to do what I told you…” 

Dean stepped back, subconsciously he clenched his fists and felt his teeth grind.

“But what can I expect from a moron like you Dean.” John chuckled, “That’s why Sam was always my favorite… he’s always been better than you. Even that little whore of yours agrees.”

“I always did everything you said.” Dean hissed back but kept his eyes low, “I always took care of Sammy. I always made sure he was safe, even now.”

“And yet, you still fuck it up.” John smirked, “I mean look at you, a filthy disgusting demon. I should send your sorry ass back to the Pit."

Dean said nothing feeling his chest tighten and his throat swell. The words ripped through him the same way a bullet would, tearing through the flesh and crushing the bones in its wake. His eyes couldn’t peel from the floor as his father spoke because he knew if he did that tears would throw his vision of John.

“I told you that you should have killed Sam. When he started in with that bitch Ruby, the demon blood, and the start of the apocalypse but you were too much of a little pussy to kill him.” John said with venomous words that burned Dean’s skin.

“I won’t hurt Sam.” Dean blurted out.

“I know, because you are too weak. Too stupid to do what you’re told!” John snapped.

“No.” Dean replied looking up finally, “I won’t. Not when it comes to Sam.”

“You’re pathetic Dean.” John’s voice grew louder and seemed to fill the spaces in Dean’s brain.

“I did everything damn thing you ever told me. It’s burned into my brain… I have done everything that I could to protect Sam… to save him.” Dean snapped as he felt his body move forward with a rigid spine and tensed muscles, “You are the one who let him down. You are the one who abandoned your sons… don’t you ever tell me that I am weak!”

“You’re nothing but a failure Dean.” John spat back with darkened eyes, “That girl of yours is fucking your brother because she can see how much of a failure you are.”

“Shut up.”

“What, you know I am right. She’s not stupid… she picked the smarter brother.” John said with a clear voice, no emotions to it and it cut Dean in half.

Dean swung and landed a hard fist into the soft cheek of his father. John didn’t flinch he just stared at Dean. Dean felt hot tears streak his cheek as he inhaled the words that were building in his head were getting louder.

“You are the bad guy not me!” Dean shouted as he threw another punch but missed John. His fist collided with the cupboard door. His knuckles screamed in pain as he shoved John. His father stepped back and smirked at him, mocking him with a simple movement.

“I shoulda kill Sam myself. Drowned him in the bath… your mother would still alive if it weren't for Sam.” John hissed out with cold eyes as his mouth settled into a straight line. Dean felt the pieces in his brain click into the right places. He was going to kill him. Real or not.

Dean felt his body give in, he attacked his father with everything he could. He punched and kicked at John, feeling the skin on his hands breaking and bleeding. His heart racing fast and faster. He felt his skin flush red with red hot rage as he tried to destroy John. Picking up chairs and breaking them over his father’s back.

John was bleeding and hunched over but the only sound Dean could hear was the laughter of his father, mocking his attempts at every chance he took. Dean stumbled back and watched as John stood upright, his face cut and bruising in front of him.

“You are not my son… you’re a monster.” John said with a whisper, “A soulless heartless monster, Dean. I should have killed you when I had the chance, let you and your vile brother burn in that fire. Would've saved me from years of disappointment and failure."

Dean felt the pain in his chest as the words absorbed into his brain. He stared at John with disbelief. His mouth fell slack.

“You’re the monster!” Dean shouted as he reached for the knife block sitting on the counter. He pulled the thick black handle and flipped it with the blade facing outward. The handle molded to his palm as he inhaled hard, deciding what to do now.

“You gonna use that boy or just hold it like a bitch.” John mocked with a bloodied smile and a low growl in his voice that made the hairs on his neck rise.

“Fuck you.” Dean snarled and lunged for John.

“I’m not going anywhere Dean. I’ve always been right here.” John said with a certainty to his voice that made Dean’s blood run cold.

“Dean?” a soft purr of a voice tore through him like hot metal. The pain of the word’s innocence was worse than the angel blade that rammed into his breastbone and nicked his heart.

Metal hit metal and ripped the knife from his hand. He was face to face with the kitchen rack, pots and pans swayed violently left and right as he stepped back. The remains of a broken chair and slivers of wood were scattered on the floor as his eyes tracked the floor and over bare legs, black shorts and the Survivor Eye of the Tiger shirt that belonged to him stretched over breasts then to a pretty soft face racked with concern and fear.

“Baby?” Her voice was still soft as she took a cautious step into the room. Dean felt himself step back then his knees buckle. He dropped to the floor and felt tears running down his face uncontrolled.

He was losing his mind and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“What happened?” She said this time closer. Her weight resting on the top of his thighs with two soft and gentle hands cupping his face. He stared up at her and shook his head.

“Baby…” She cried out as she hugged him into her chest. Her arms held him tight even though he wanted to shove her away. He didn’t deserve love because he was a monster, “It’s gonna be alright, I promise.”

_‘You’re a soulless, heartless monster, Dean._ ’ His father’s words whispered in the back of his brain.

 

I had been in the same spot for so long I was sure the wooden chair under my ass had molded to it. I had spent all night flipping through books and reports that the men of letters had in their extensive library. Something in my brain was keeping me going even though I could feel the exhaustion in my bones. I was a woman on a mission. Going between demon possession and hallucinations to cases of prolonged exhaustion caused violent outbursts to even mental illness. Nothing fit but I would be damned if I let this go on any longer.

I had watched Dean beat on Sam as if he were an unwanted dog. I watched his face crumble into a childlike fear as he attacked the kitchen appliances. He was angry and bursting with so much anger that it could make a dam break! He had destroyed a chair and punched a hole in the cupboard. He rambled something about his father as he apologized over and over again as I led him to our room. I tucked him into bed, staying with him until he was asleep.

“Why are you still up?” Sam said with messy hair. The grey shirt draped over his chest all rumpled from sleep lifting as he stretched long towards the ceiling. I stared at the bit of bare skin exposed, low stomach with a faint trace of muscle standing out, “You do know that it is four A.M.”

“I know.” I said leaning forward and dropping my head into my hands, “Something is not right!”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam smirked as he moved slowly towards me. He took the seat just to the right of me and pushed the papers on the table around, “I mean he beat the shit out of me…”

“I think it’s cause he isn’t sleeping. I know that demons don’t need sleep but what if he’s not a full demon. Demons are black smoke and orders from hell. He is-.” I started as a yawn cut off me off.

“He’s a knight of hell.” Sam finished my sentence with a smile.

“Exactly. He had no problem with sleep before so why this change?” I said smiling at Sam in return, feeling less crazy hearing the words from someone else's mouth, “I am trying to link the effects of sleep deprivation to his hallucinations and maybe a way to get him to sleep.”

“And?” Sam sighed.

“Nothin.” I frowned, “I found him in a full manic state with the kitchen destroyed.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“We need to try to cure him.” Sam said with a soft voice.

“No, he won’t go for it.” I shook my head. My head was throbbing and my eyes stinging from the dust floating in the air.

“Then, we trick him.”

 

Dean woke with his heart pumping fast. He was covered in sweat and confused as he sprung up from the bed. The alarm clock shined 4:25 a.m. with an angry red glow that mocked him.

“I’m fine.” He whispered as his clenched his fist and inhaled hard.

“Are you?” A woman’s voice filled his ears. Dean felt his back tense as he turned. “Baby, you are losing against the mark.”

“Mom?” Dean asked blinking as his breath fluttered in his throat. The white nightgown rested just below her knee with long blond hair over her shoulders, as a soft smile graced her pink lips, “Not you too.”

“Yeah Dean.” Mary spoke with a calm kindness in her voice that made Dean ache.

“You’re not real. I know you are dead.” Dean whispered as he closed his eyes hoping that once he opened them that she would be gone.

“Dean, I know I’m dead. Why do you think I am here?” She said seconds before she touched his face. He pressed his face into her hand and opened his eyes.

“You know what you are… what you became.” She said with a soft voice, “You need to embrace it.”

“No, I can’t. I can’t kill Sam.” Dean said sputtering the words out as they came into his head, “That is what I am supposed to do. Hurt Sam.”

“If it weren’t for Sam, I would be here still. So would your father.” His mother countered.

Dean recoiled and stared at her in disgust. He shook his head and felt the bitter acid from his stomach creep up his throat. He stepped back once more until his back was pressed against the dresser.

She smiled.

This time her smile was depraved and bright eyes that gave her a youthful glow were darker, “If his cry wouldn’t have woken me up, I would still be alive.”

“No.” Dean shook his head violently.

“Once I knew what that demon had done to Sam, I would have done the right thing and put him down like the tainted thing he is.” Mary stepped closer with an outstretched arm, “It’s his fault you are a demon, Dean.”

“No. Shut up.” Dean pleaded. Everything in his head was screaming for him to react, to destroy, but he couldn’t. It was his mother the one who gave him life, the reason he was a hunter. He wouldn’t hurt her, ghost or not.

“Dean, listen to me.” She said taking his face into her hands and turning his head down to her, “You know what you have to do. Just give into the mark, feed it and let it give you everything you need. ”

“No!” Dean shouted ripping his head from her hands. His fists slammed into the dresser.

“Shh! It’s okay.” Mary cooed as she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. She smelled like jasmine as her hair tickled his face. Dean felt his shoulders melt a little as he slumped down into her embrace. Her body was warm and everything about it felt good. He relaxed and closed his eyes taking in the embrace.

“Stop fighting it, Dean.” Mary whispered, “The pain and the visions will stop.”

“I… can’t.” He replied with a shaky voice.

“What can I do to make you change your mind?” Her voice was colder.

“Don’t ask me to do this.” Dean said unsure of the words.

“You have too.” Mary said firmly, “It’s as easy as letting go. Breathing. Blinking.”

Dean nodded into her soft shoulder.

“That’s my good boy.” Mary breathed again as she stroked his hair and pressed lips into his head.

 

Sam pushed the book away from him and rubbed his eyes. I glanced up from the paper I was reading to see Sam yawn.

“Go to bed.” I said while closing the file with useless information.

“Speak for yourself.” Sam griped as he leaned back over the book and went back to reading, “I know that you think Dean will hate us for doing it but I think when he does come back… he will hate us even more for waiting this long.”

“Sam, I can lure him into a trap so you can juice him up and we hope that it has the same effect on him. He’s not even in the same ring as the other demons.” I replied feeling the irritation smacking me in the head. My head was thumping harder as I tried to focus my tired eyes on the next document in the beige folder with the embossed black Aquarian star on the cover.

“You should get some sleep. You can’t fix Dean if you are worse than he is, right?” Sam said with an influx to his voice that was almost playful but verging on chastising.

“You really aren't gonna drop it are you?” I asked leaning forward. I pinched the bridge of my nose then looked at him. My eyes were blurred around the edges and everything around me was a little out of focus as if I was using someone else’s glasses to view things.

“No. I know from firsthand experience that killing yourself will only kill you.” Sam said with his mouth resting in a softened frown, “Unless there is something else that is keeping you away from that room?”

“No.” I blurted.

“Then go.”

I waivered a little, feeling the uneasy flop in my stomach as I nodded. I sighed as I pushed back from the table and rose slowly. Sam watched me with a close eye as I gathered up the files I had pulled.

“I’ll clean up. Bed, now!” Sam commanded this time; his voice was stern as he pointed a finger. I set the files down and backed away.

“Yes, dad.” I grumbled as I dropped the files and trudged away.

“See you at 10!” Sam called after me as I disappeared out into the hallway and headed for my room. I felt my heartbeat start to quicken as I got close to the bedroom door. The golden number 11 gleaming in the lowlight of the hall seemed like a beacon or a warning. I stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. My hand shook as I reached for the door and turned the knob.

As I stepped into the room, I found Dean standing on his side of the bed. He was tucking the blankets under the mattress. He looked up at me with a burning glare.

“Why are you up?” I asked feeling my throat tighten.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Dean grumbled.

“Oh… I was gonna lay down.” I said swallowing and closing the door behind me. The sound of the wood rattling reminded me of the sound of prison bars clanging shut, “Would you lay with me?”

“I have things to do.” He replied coldly as he stepped away from the bed. He grabbed his jacket and tossed it over his arm.

“Please.”

Dean glared at me, sending chills through me. His jaw muscles tightened and popped under his skin. He dropped the jacket and stared up at me with a look that was borderline hatred. I stared at him as I carefully crawled onto the bed, I could feel the foam molding under my hands and the blankets shifting as I settled in. Dean laid beside me and rested his head on the pillow. I moved closer to him and rested a hand on his belly. I felt his breath still as I tried to get comfortable beside him. 

I had a million questions still bouncing around in my head but I focused on one.

“Where were you going?” I asked feeling a little more meek than I wanted to at that moment. I looked up at his face, searching for something to give me a little hope.

“For a drink.”

“We have booze here.” I countered, knowing I shouldn’t have but I did it anyways. Dean stiffened as he laid beside me. I felt the need to nervously chatter as I bit my lip in hesitation and chose not to.

My head started to feel heavy and my eyelids followed suit. I felt every muscle in my body loosen and the will to stay awake leaving me slowly. Dean’s hand slid underneath me and slowly stroked my back in a figure eight motion. I listened to the sounds of his heart beating and his lungs pushing and pulling in air. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the warm woodsy smell filling my nose and putting me into a trance.

“Please don’t leave me.” I whispered before giving into the warm embrace of sleep.

 

Dean had listened to her breathing. She held tight to his shirt and snuggled in close to his side as if she knew that he was going to leave. He could hear the sound of his mother’s voice telling him to let go sharply followed by John shouting at him, vile words that ripped him apart still. He wanted to run, track down Crowley and fall in line but there was something keeping him here. It felt like a chain attached to his waist that led back to her and Sam. He laid on the bed beside her and stroked her back, debating his decision.

Instead of getting up to leave, Dean stripped down, choosing to stay. He would let himself have a moment of intimacy with her. She looked innocent and exhausted with dark circles that surrounded her eyes. He rested his head back and closed his eyes, knowing he could relax for a moment.

He woke to something tickling the skin on his neck, gentle weight resting on top of his hips and then the feeling of a chaste kiss on his lip. Two impossibly soft hands cupping his face and the insatiably sexy sound of her moaning behind closed lips. He opened his eyes to see her smiling face; her hair had fallen over her shoulders and rested on her chest.

“Morning.” She said with an innocent smile and sinful eyes before she leaned in and kissed him again. He kissed her back this time gripping her hips and scooting her closer to him.

“Good morning to you.” He said back between hungry kisses. Her small hands gripped the collar of his shirt as she melted into him. She sat back and pulled her shirt off, revealing soft pale skin and faint pink and white scars a cross it. His hands wandered up her sides then curled around her back. He pulled her close to kiss her as her arms draped over his shoulders. Fingers ran through his hair as she kissed him and melted into him.

‘She fucked Sam.’ John’s voice called from the back of his brain.

“Dean.” Her voice was a whisper in his ear, “Please.”

Her hips rolled against him as soft breasts pressed to his chest. Dean groaned as her hands tightened on his back while his hand pulled the boxers down. Once his cock was free from the cotton restraint, he pulled the shorts on her body to the side. His fingers brushing against her and making her quietly whine was all he needed to know that he was doing something right.

“I love you.” She whispered in his ear as she lowered herself down onto him. He felt his heart flutter as his hips bucked up into her making her breasts bounce in his face. He kissed her skin as she leaned into him and kissed his neck. Her head dropped to his shoulder as her arms hugged him tighter.

Dean felt his heart stop in his chest as John stood in the room, leaning against the dresser with his arms folded over his chest and a frown on his face.

“You still gonna fuck her when Sam’s been inside her?” John asked with a sickened tone to his voice.

“No! No!” Dean said shaking his head, “You’re not real!”

“Baby?” Her voice filled his ear as she leaned back, still pumping her hips.

Dean shoved her back, her arms flailing back then covered her breasts as he sprung from the bed. As he moved towards John, he evaporated. His chest filled with dead weight, he inhaled hard. Her hand touched his arm but he ripped it away from her.

“Talk to me… what’s going on?” She asked with a tremble.

“Nothing.” Dean’s voice was cold. He felt his back tense and he held his breath as he turned to face her. Her hair was wild as she moved off the bed, still half-naked. Dean stepped back from her and shook his head.

“Please.”

“Stop it.” Dean said low feeling the tension in his throat.

She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest, her head dipped down and she sat back on the bed.

Dean reached for his shirt and jeans, quickly dressing and escaping his room. He rushed down the hall and into the war room. The illuminated table was dark but covered with papers and books. Sam’s jacket was slung over the chair and his brother's set of keys were resting on the table next to a steaming cup of coffee.

Sam was coming back which meant he needed to get out. Dean turned and hurried to the hallway.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice called after him. The sound of his voice making his skin crawl as he stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly and faced Sam. His face still bruised and battered from the beating Dean had doled out.

“What?” Dean growled. Sam raised his eyebrows and smirked.

“So, I was looking into some things and I think we might be on to something with the mark.” Sam said as he picked up a file.

“No.”

“What?” Sam asked confused as he blinked slowly.

“No. I don’t need a cure or a quick fix.”

“Dean… I think I am on to something!” Sam replied with a little shake to his voice.

“No spell or incantation is going to fix me. I am broken!” Dean snapped as he stepped up to Sam. His brother was taller than he was and Sam was built with all muscle but he could still take him down. He knew Sam’s weak spots. They were the same when they were kids and they never changed as he grew into a giant.

“Dean.”

“No, Sam. Drop it!” Dean snapped as he backed off, his fist clenching hard and digging his nails into his skin. Dean stalked off, headed for the garage.

“Dean.” A girls hard voice called after him with feet padding against the concrete floor.

“Just drop it!” Dean snapped as he ripped the garage door open and slammed it behind him. He needed to get air and a beer. He slammed keys into the ignition of his car then hauled ass out of there.

 

I stood at the end of the hall for a few moments after the door slammed shut and the sound of the Impala’s engine roared to life just staring at the door. I turned back to Sam who stood behind me a few paces wearing the same expression I was, somewhere teetering between confusion and anger.

“What the hell was that?” Sam asked as he pulled his hand through his hair.

“I… I don’t know.” I frowned and dropped my head.

“He just freaked out?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, kinda.” I said softly looking up at him and moving the small space to close the gap, “He started shouting then shoved me off him and ran out of the room.”

“This is really bad.”

“Yeah, I know.” I said pushing past Sam; I went back into our room for my phone. I dialed Dean’s number, listening to the ring and feeling like time was going backward.

“This is Dean’s other, other cell so you must know what to do”

“You better get home...now!” I snapped then hung up. I trudged to the dresser and pulled jeans on then marched out into the main room. Sam was leaning against the table with his arm folded over his chest.

“Track his phone then we go after him.” I said pointing to his laptop.

“He’ll ditch the phone or turn it off.” Sam growled.

“Not the one I have in the trunk.”

“You have a phone in the trunk?”

“Just in case I get put in there and left.” I shrugged.

Sam sat in the chair and pulled up the phone company’s website. He clicked and typed as I sat beside him with impatience growing stronger as I watched. The map stayed stationary for a moment then the red bubble popped up.

“Apparently, he is in the middle of a field.” I said staring at the screen as yellow wheat filled page.

“No, he left it here.” Sam grimaced at me, “What’s your number?”

“785-432-1302- Password is Lazarus.”

The computer pulled back then focused in again on the map.

“He’s on I-36 headed west. Probably to Phillipsburg.” Sam said sighing as he leaned back in the chair.

“Can we head him off?” I asked.

“No, but we can follow him.” Sam got up and smiled at me. I stared up at him with a vague feeling in my gut that I tried to ignore but I couldn’t. I know that I had slept with Sam. I know that I liked it and I also knew that Sam was handsome, but under every circumstance that would hold in a court of law, I was Dean’s girl. Nevertheless, I wanted to kiss him.

“Bring the laptop, be my navigator.” Sam smiled at me as he handed it over. I cradled it in my arms and smiled weakly, “You might want to put some shoes on.”

“Oh yeah. Duh.” I smiled again feeling like I was a love-struck teenage me.

We cruised along the highway, watching the green and yellow grass passed us by. We were in the bright blue Dodge Dart Demon that Sam once stole and now used as his backup car. It had an engine that rumbled like the Impala. I had the laptop on my knees and was caught between watching him and watching the little red balloon jump on the screen.

“What were you and Dean doing when he had his uh, Girl Interrupted moment?” Sam smirked as he glanced over at me.

I felt my tongue swell up and my throat get tight.

“We were… fooling around.” I said softly with my eyes fixed on the computer. I heard Sam snicker then sigh.

“What?” I snapped, blushing with embarrassment all over my face and spreading to my neck in a hot red color.

“Nothing.”

“No. Spit it out.”

“I just think it’s funny that my brother is having a mental breakdown, carrying the mark of Cain and you know he’s a knight of hell but you think hey, let’s have sex .” Sam said with a biting tone to his voice that stung my ego.  

“I wanted to be closer to him… I thought maybe it would help.”

“Your pussy is not the cure for this…” Sam replied with a sneer.

“Jealous?” I asked looking up and meeting his gaze.

“No.” Sam replied with a snap, “What we had was… a one-time thing. You’re not my type.”

I snorted.

We stared at each other for a split second then he went back to driving and I stared at the computer screen watching the red balloon jump every few seconds. I felt the blood drain from my face and begin to run normally through my veins.

As we cruised through the green and yellow fields my mind, wandered back to before this whole thing started. Before the angels fell and all this nonsense ever became an issue and missed the simplicity of it all. All the happiness that we had even when we were being hunted or when we lost Bobby. Hell, I missed the apocalypse even.

“Where is he now?” Sam asked with a low voice.

“Looks like a bar in Phillipsburg.” I sighed and shook my head.

“Yeah, sounds right.” Sam groaned and shook his head, “We are about an hour out. He isn’t going anywhere.”

We rolled through the small towns that lined the highway until we hit Phillipsburg just before noon. A white police car blew past us blaring the sirens and lights. Sam shot me a look and I returned it with a nod. I started typing on his computer looking into what was going on in the quaint city of Phillipsburg. I hacked through the pathetic firewall of the police department and scanned the incoming log.

“White male mid 30’s causing a disturbance at the Horseshoe Bar on 4th.” I said looking at Sam. He frowned and shook his head.

“Thankfully we are here.” Sam said with a dark tone to his voice, “In the glove box there is a fed badge. One for each of us, he’s an escaped convict that was in our custody.”

I nodded and sighed.

“And we’re here.” Sam said as he wheeled the car into a parking spot. I watched as police officers pulled Dean out of the bar. Sam sprung from the seat and headed towards them.

“Excuse me. Gentlemen!” I heard Sam say loudly as I followed him from the car, “Detective Lynley and Havers. That man is in our custody.”

“Well, he’s in ours now.”

“Actually, we have jurisdiction.” I said strolling up calmly as I raised my phone, having already pulled up a fake arrest warrant to pull the con off, “Detective Havers, this is a warrant signed by Mr. Comey himself.”

“This dirt bag is now ours.” Sam grabbed Dean’s arm. I watched Dean’s eyes scan Sam’s face then mine, bright green eyes that were wide as tears filled the lash line.

“What is he wanted for?” The suspicious police officer with chubby red cheeks and blonde hair asked.

“Top of the list, murder, mail fraud, identity theft, grave desecration, and the list is a mile long.” I smirked at the fat faced little man who only sneered at us, “I need his possessions… I know you’ve already bagged.”

The little man sneered at me and frowned, “Follow me.”

“You don’t understand!” Dean shouted at us from the backseat as he slammed his shoulders into the seat, “If I miss this meeting with Crowley, he won’t take the mark off! I can be normal again!”

“Dean it’s a trap.” Sam said with disbelief, “You have to see that.”

“No. He said we meet and he will take away the mark.”

“Babe, he is going to manipulate you into doing his dirty work.” I said turning to face him. Dean huffed and turned his head sharply so he could stare out the window.

“What happened back there?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.”

“Drunk and disorderly doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I uh, got into a fight.” Dean said with a cold casual voice.

 

 

Dean stepped into the bar at 11 am to find three patrons and a bartender, an older man with dark hair sprinkled with grey. He smiled at Dean graciously and went back to wiping down glasses as Dean took a seat.

“Scotch, double and neat.” Dean said low in his throat. He glanced to the side at the two men a few chairs down from him.

A small glass sat in front of him filled with amber liquid that swirled slightly before he picked it up and took a swig. He felt it burn going down into his empty stomach as he inhaled a little harder.

“Looks like you had a rough day.” The bartender said casually.

“Yeah.”

“Well, next round's on me kid.”

“Thanks.” Dean said softly with a nod.

Dean listened to the men talk softly about working at the factory and reminiscing on the good old days. The words made him think about everything, everything that had brought him to this moment. All the wins. The losses that he had. Meeting her. Saving Sam. He wanted to be done with the Mark and all the bullshit it carried with it.

His mind was working double time as he pulled his phone out and pressed the buttons on the face of it.

“Dean. Long time no speak.” Crowley’s voice was painfully excited on the other end.

“How do I get rid of it?” Dean grumbled.

“Well, it won’t be easy…” Crowley said with a sigh.

“I want it gone.” Dean insisted with his voice almost a shout. The two men at the bar looking over.

“Fine. Meet with me tonight. There's a bar in Salina… Big Nose Kate’s. Nine 'o Clock.” Crowley said with a trace of playfulness to his voice that sent a shiver up Dean’s spine before hanging up.

Dean stared at the screen and sighed before tossing back his drink. As the bartender filled him up again, Dean glanced up to see a familiar face, shoulder length brown hair that curled around a motherly face. Full pink lips and deep chocolate colored eyes stared back at him.

“Hey Dean.” Ellen’s voice felt the same way that good scotch was smooth but had that slow burn behind it.

Dean blinked with painful recognition in his eyes, his mind flashing back to Jo and her in the hardware store. Making bombs. The smell of burning skin and gasoline. His eyes jerked away from her. The words lost in his throat as he stared in disbelief.

“You don't need to talk… I can do that.” She smirked with her eyebrow lifting, “I know. I look pretty good for being blown to hell, don’t ya think.”

Dean opened his mouth, still shell shocked from everything.

“When I killed myself and Jo, I did it because I knew that it would be a means to the end of the whole demon bullshit that you and your brother got yourself wrapped in 'cause of your daddy… then what happened?” She said as she put her hands down on the bar.

Dean felt his eyes well up with tears. His face was burning up as a lump formed hard in his throat.

“You turn into a demon… you trade your god damned humanity for a demon…” Ellen snapped, “And for what?”

“I’m sorry.” Dean whispered as a tear fell and rolled down his cheek. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath then held it to keep himself together.

“You’re sorry?” Ellen snorted. She was in front of him. Her hands balled up tight and hanging to her sides, “I died for this!”

“I...” Dean stammered trying to find the words as she grabbed the collar of his shirt, “Please don’t.”

“You should have just died, Dean!” Ellen snapped.

She shoved him back hard into the bar. Pain rippled up his back, over his shoulder then down his arm. It fed into the mark and began to burn. He gritted his teeth and sucked the pain away. Dean felt his shoulders tighten and the muscles in his arms flex as his body reacted. His arm pushed forward and he watched Ellen fall back into the table behind her.

Dean blinked and watched as the bartender turned into Ellen. The table had been reduced to rubble as the man jumped up and shoved Dean backward.

“I. No. I am sorry.” Dean sputtered as the man slammed a fist into the side of Dean’s face. Another man grabbed him by the arm, slamming him into the floor as a knee rammed between his shoulder blades.

“Call the cops.” the bartender sneered and spat at Dean.

“I didn’t mean too!” Dean pleaded.

“Psycho.” the man on top of him snapped as his knees dug into his spine.

Ellen stood at the back of the bar with a disgusted face. Her arms folded as she shook her head.

The bar filled with police officers quickly. Two of them, one fat and short with his long, tall companion put cuffs on him and hauled him towards the police cruiser.

‘You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…’ Short and fat said with a shit-eating smirk on his face.

“Excuse me gentlemen.” Sam’s voice was like angels singing the hallelujah chorus.

Sam and the police officers squabbled for a moment before she cut in.

“We have a warrant for his arrest signed by Mr. Comely… this scumbag is coming with us.” She said as Sam pulled him along beside him.

“You better spill.” Sam hissed as he opened back the back door to his car.

 

Dean sat quietly behind us; his head dipped down with shoulders slumped over. He had a bruise forming around his eye and a split lip with a trail of ruby red down his chin. Dean did not speak for a while as the car rambled down the road. I wanted to crawl back with him and wrap my arm around him. I wanted to make it better but I knew it wasn’t something I could do.

“I saw Ellen.” Dean spoke. His voice was low in his throat coming out more like a growl than words.

“Ellen?” Sam asked as he eased the car back on to the highway.

“It’s the same song and dance.” Dean sighed.

“What do you mean?” I asked turning to face him in the seat. There was something biting at the back of my brain as Dean spoke, like a dripping faucet that begged for attention in the dark.

“These...hallucinations have been happening more and more.” Dean’s voice was heavy and weary, “It’s always the same song and dance.”

“What’s the tune?” Sam asked.

“How I am letting everyone down… that I am a failure. I should have died.” Dean replied leaning on the door and looking out the window.

“But you’re not. You did what you did to save people. Sam and me… you did nothing wrong.” I replied as I shook my head.

“Unless that is how you feel?” Sam commented.

“Yeah because I love the slow torture method, especially in my dreams.” Dean grumbled. Something in my head clicked, like the pieces of a jigsaw coming together. There was a voice nagging at me, telling that this wasn’t because of the mark.

“We can cure this.” Sam replied.

“Whatever.” Dean said with his head leaned back as he closed his eyes. I stared at him hoping he would look up but he didn’t. I turned away from him and stared out the front window.

The car was quiet until we rolled into the bunker. Sam was out of the car before everyone else. He ripped Dean’s door open and slapped cuffs on him with no remorse on his face.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dean snapped as he thrashed to get away from Sam.

“I am doing this because I don’t want you to do something stupid.” Sam said coldly as he pulled Dean from the car.

“Sam!” I shouted trailing behind them in the distance, I could hear Dean shouting and fighting back but to no avail. I ran to keep up but they still had a head start on me, something in my gut told me this was a bad idea. This was going to have a horrible consequence.

We traveled through the stairwells to the basement. My stomach sank as I heard the walls of the dungeon open and Dean’s pitiful shouts for Sam to stop. I breeched the door out of breath and a little shaky to find Sam strapping Dean to a chair. Dean was thrashing violently and spitting out every curse word that he could think of.

“I am fine! I don’t need this!” Dean hissed.

“No.” Sam said firmly.

“Sam… I don’t think this is the answer.” I said moving towards Dean. Sam grabbed my arm and ripped me back.

“No. You’re not doing this… he needs this!” Sam snapped and pushed me to the doors.

“Please.”

“I don’t want a cure Sam… I’m fine.” Dean growled his voice was feral and low, making the hairs on my neck to prickle as we turned to face him. Dean’s green eyes were covered with a black sheet as he glowered at us.

“You can’t be in here.” Sam said with a hushed voice. His hands gripped my shoulders as he pushed me out of the room.

“Don’t do this… Sam.” I gripped his wrist before he shoved me out of the room. I stumbled back and landed hard on my ass. I looked up in time to see the doors slam shut with me on the wrong side. I sprang up and banged on the metal.

“Sam!”

 

Dean sat in the chair with the ropes and cuffs digging into his skin and burning the flesh below. He could feel the anger boiling in his stomach, all that rage and violence just sitting below the surface waiting to explode out. Sam had his back turned to him, shoulder length chestnut hair curled up and over the blue plaid collar. Dean hated him; he hated the choice that had been made for him.

“Really?” Dean asked through gritted teeth, staring at Sam as if he was prey.

“For whatever it’s worth, I got your blood type.” Sam replied nonchalantly even though Dean could feel the nerve riding Sam as he turned to face him.

“Sam, I know you think you’re gonna try and fix me, but … did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be fixed? Just let me go live my life. I won’t bother you. What do you care?” Dean growled as Sam palmed the syringe and wavered for a moment, “I can’t be fixed, Sam. Just stop.”

“What do I care?” Sam scoffed, dropped his gaze and shook his head. Dean watched as Sam chewed his lip and slowly looked up. Dean could see the cracks, all the hard work spent trying to fix him. Making the lines connect back to him even if they did not.

“You think I’m just gonna sit here like Crowley? Getting all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, screw that. I don’t want this!” Dean snapped and shook his head with disgust, “Why don’t you bring her back in… she’ll say the same damn thing.”

“Yeah, I pretty much figured that out but frankly, this is a family matter.” Sam said firmly as he pulled the flask from his coat, unscrewing the cap and dousing him in holy water. Dean felt his skin burning and hissing in anger as he shook his head.

“You don’t even know if this is gonna work, do you? You know, I got a hell of a lot more running through me than just demon juice.” Dean shouted as he glowered up at Sam. Every inch of his skin was lit up with pain and wanting only revenge.

 “Mark of Cain. Yeah, I got it.” Sam replied with bitterness backing his voice as he slowly moved towards Dean.

“That’s right. And frankly Sam, I don’t think there is a damn thing you can do about it.” Dean smirked as Sam approached him.

“Buckle up.”

“Sammy … You know I hate shots.” Dean replied using the voice that always worked on Sammy.

 “I hate demons.”

The needle slammed into his skin without regard for veins or muscle. Sam pushed the plunger down and emptied the blood into Dean’s body. It burned as he worked through his body leaving a trail of scorched veins in its wake. A growl rumbled up from his guts and bursts through his lips. He felt his body become drenched in sweat.

Sam paced the floor as Dean stared at him; he was panting and moaning feeling the blood working against him. The insides of his body were fighting a battle against it. Dean wanted the pain to stop, his brain scrambled for a way to make it go away.

 “Look, we got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make it a lot easier on yourself.” Sam said with sadness trickling across his face as he stared down at Dean. Dean felt the prickle of joy at the anguish this caused Sam.

“For all you know, you could be killing me.” Dean croaked, knowing that it would drive the knife in Sam’s heart in deeper.

“Or … You’re just messing with me. Either way, the lore doesn’t say anything about exceptions to the cure.” Sam turned away from Dean. Not giving Dean the satisfaction of seeing the idea sparking in the back of his mind.

 “The lore. Hunters. Men of Letters. What a load of crap it all is! Oh, you got nothing?” Dean laughed and sighed as Sam turned to face him.

 “You want me to debate you… on this? Research? This isn’t even Dean I’m talking to.” Sam snapped back. He was in front of Dean with his chest puffed out and a disgusted look on his face.

 “Oh, it’s the real me, all right. The new real me—the me that sees things for what they really are. Winchesters. Do-gooders. Fighting the natural order. Let me tell you something—guys like me, we are the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.” Dean glared up at Sam.

“Guys like you? Guys like you are the reason why guys like me exist. You are one of us Dean, like it or not.”

Dean snorted and shook his head.

“This isn’t you. I know you, Dean. I know that you would be fighting right beside me if it was… we do everything we can to stop this bullshit.” Sam hissed stepping away from him and moving towards the table.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Sammy. Cause, see, from where I’m sitting … you’re still a scared little boy pretending to be a hunter.” Dean mocked Sam with an insincere smile. He knew that his eyes were black; he could feel it as Sam picked up another syringe in his hands.

 “No, Dean. I am not scared. I know this will work. And you’ll thank me when it does.” Sam said with a slight tremble to his voice. He slammed the syringe into Dean’s arm.

“Let me ask you this, Sammy: when this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam?” Dean snapped as the blood zinged through his body and burned. He thrashed against his restraints as Sam stepped away from him. Sam leaned against the table as Dean gritted his teeth and growled.

Dean watched, as Sam stood tall and exited the room.

“Run away like you always do… Sam Winchester trademark!” Dean shouted behind him.

 

I sat outside the door. I felt helpless and angry as I listened to Dean and Sam argue back and forward. The doors creaked and Sam stepped out. His forehead was covered in sweat as he leaned his head against the wall.

“Please, just stop.” I begged.

“I can’t. Dean is in there. I know that the Mark has him wrapped up in it but he is there.” Sam said wearily.

“Sam. There is something else going on.” I said perking up. I crawled up from the floor and stared at him, “He never had hallucinations before. He never acted like this.”

“Then what is it? Huh? Until you can prove what the fuck you think is wrong… I am gonna finish this.” Sam hissed. I felt my body tense and my spine lengthen. Something inside of me knew that I had to do this. I knew that Dean wasn’t just suffering from the effects of the Mark that there had to be something else.

“Fine! Give me an hour!” I snapped and stormed away from him.

“You have 20 minutes.” Sam called out to me as I ran up the stairs.

I bolted for the library. I scanned the books on dreams and nightmares. I pulled it from the shelf then tossed it on the table. I pulled files on hallucinations and nightmares then sat down.

Frantically I flipped through the pages looking for something. Any damn thing to delay this. I knew that Sam was going to try the cure and that I couldn’t stop that but I could delay it for now. I scanned through the pages for anything. The words jammed together and became a long stream of words. My hands were shaking as I rushed for anything. Dream walking and lucid dreams echoed in my head as I scanned the pages.

Time seemed to speed by as I read. I jotted ideas down as the sound of Sam’s footsteps filled my ears. I felt tears brimming my lash line as I tried to find an answer. I took a breath in as Sam entered the room.

“A witch.” I said looking up at Sam feeling desperate.

“There is nothing witchy going on… witches can’t control demons like that.” Sam said stepping up to the table.

“A demon. A higher up demon who has it out for us.” I held my breath and stared forward knowing I was going to be shut down.

“Nope.”

“A Mara.” I begged with tears filling my eyes again.

“No. I don’t think so.” Sam sighed, “I gotta do this.”

“Please.” I said pushing away from the table and moving for him. If I couldn’t use the research then I would use sex. I ran a finger up his arm and smiled up at him, “He’s stuck down there… I think this gives us more time alone.”

“I know what you are doing and I won’t fall for it again.” Sam glowered at me.

“Fuck. I had to try.” I frowned.

“Stay here. Dean will be fixed soon enough.” Sam smiled weakly as he turned away from me.

I followed behind him until he hit the door to the basement. Sam opened the door then shut it behind him. I heard the locks click and frantically tried to pull it open.

“Sam! Please!” I begged again even though I knew it was pointless.

 

 “Hey! Hey! DEAN! Come on! Come back.” Sam shouted frantically as he slapped Dean’s cheek.

“No.” Dean whispered weakly. His body was overrun with feelings of exhaustion mixed with anger.

 “Come back to me. You there? Hey! Dean, you okay?” Sam said cupping Dean’s face and tilting it to the sides. His eyes were panicked at he ran thumbs over Dean’s cheeks. The gesture made Dean’s skin crawl.

 “Yeah, if you … consider stewing in your own sweat while your blood boils “okay.” Dean growled back as he ripped his head from Sam’s hands. Dean let out a cough that stung his throat and dropped his head. He listened to Sam back off as he slowly looked up.

“Look, I can’t stop doing this.” Sam said firmly, “She tried to talk me out of it. But Dean, you never gave up on me… I returning the favor now.”

“Sure you can. You just stop! There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now… let me and the girl go and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” Dean smiled then licked his lips slowly, his mind rested back to her. The memories of using her body for his own desires and pleasure.

“She is staying put and I will bring him back. I know that you are in there.” Sam replied without missing a beat.

“I heard you outside of this room; I heard her begging you to stop. She doesn’t want this… she likes the demon.” Dean snarled as Sam stepped back and inhaled, “In fact, your uh… guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been M.I.A. for quite some time now. But I love the new model: Lean, mean, Dean.”

“Right. I don’t buy this bullshit you’re selling Dean.” Sam snorted.

 “You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, all your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just … tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since …”Dean paused then gave a light chuckle as Sam picked up another syringe. He fumbled with the device before moving away from the table and back to him. Sam stayed silent and just stared at him with tired eyes.

“Forever. Or maybe … Maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it weren’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!” Dean continued with a smile flicking up the corners of his mouth.

“This isn’t my brother talking. Dean wouldn’t believe that for one second!”

“You never had a brother! Just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what: I quit.” Dean growled and hissed at Sam with so much hate brewing in his body. He knew the words that would hit Sam the hardest. He knew that right things to say to cause the most damage.

 “No. No, you don’t.” Sam snapped and pointed his fingers at Dean, “You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!”

 “Well, then, we got nothin’.” Dean said to Sam as tears starting to fill his eyes. Dean knew that he was making an impact on him.

 “Would you say that to Dad?” Sam choked out a little then cleared his throat. He stared down at Dean with tough eyes.

 “Dad? Oh, there’s a prize. There’s a man who brainwashed us into wasting our lives fighting his losing battle!” Dean snorted, “Real fucking role model there.” Dean waited a beat before continuing.

 “Oh. Ooh. Is this you manning up?” Dean mocked him.

 “This is me yanking your dumb ass out of the fire since you are too stubborn or stupid to do it for yourself!” Sam replied as he jabbed the needle into Dean’s filling his veins with the liquefied fire that scorched his body from the inside out.

 “You’re welcome.” Sam replied with a smug smile.

Sam dropped his head and sauntered out of the room, Dean sat back in the chair feeling pain rippling across his chest and back. He could feel the tightness on his lungs and the iron grip on his brain that made his vision blur. He couldn’t help but groan from the ache in his bones.

He could hear Sam outside of the room, his feet pacing back and forth as he debated his next move. Dean knew that Sam couldn’t stomach killing him. Dean listened to Sam feet move away from the room and climb the stairs. Sam’s footsteps were weary as he trudged up the concrete stairs, the weight of his actions weighing on him. He listened to the female voice shouting at Sam, telling him to stop this bullshit. That damn girl was too loyal; he knew that he could always depend on her to make poor judgement.

 

He squeezed his hand against the cuff feeling the metal pushing against his skin and scraping slightly. He groaned as he yanked back and freed his hand. The skin reddened as he groaned a little louder then yanked the other hand free. He twisted free from the ropes and pulled his legs free. He stood up and stretched. His legs ached from sitting in the chair. He hesitated for a moment as he stared at the floor, the devils trap mocking him.

He inhaled sharply and took a few step. He felt a stinging in his body that zapped through his bones as he crossed over the trap and headed for the door. He pulled the door open and strutted out into the shelves. Dean still felt the purified blood rambling through his system like a handful of bolts in a garbage disposal.

“Now Sammy… you should know better.” Dean grinned as he reached the stair. He had a plan to act on, he needed to get Sam out of the way and the girl could either go or stay. He could care less; she was too stupid to stay. She would follow him blindly.

 

I was sitting on Dean’s bed. His shirt was wrapped around my hand as I stared at the wall. My head drifted off to how it was before, the fantasy being an escape from this moment. I missed my happier Dean. The Dean who would wake me up, pull me from bed and take me to breakfast. Or when Dean would wake me up with kisses before making me get up to work our case. I pulled the shirt close to my chest and closed my eyes. I felt knots in my stomach as the idea of Dean being tied up in the basement with blood injections being forced into him. There was something more happening to Dean, I just knew it but I couldn’t prove it.

The door swung open and slammed against the wall. I jumped up and dropped the shirt. Sam stood in the door with sweat accumulating on his brow and out of breath.

“Dean escaped.” He muttered looking at me with weary eyes.

“You let him escape!” I hissed and grabbed the shotgun on the dresser.

Sam put his arm across my chest and held me back. He waved his fingers to the right and nodded. I held my breath and nodded as I headed off. I could feel my heart slamming against my ribs as I moved into the back hall. I scanned the doors as I went past, pushing ones that were closed open and moving forward. I ducked into the library and scanned the room. I darted between the tables towards the other door as the lights cut out.

“Fuck.” I hissed quietly.

 

Dean stalked down the hall. His neck was burning hot and his fist clenched as his feet hit the concrete floor. He could hear movement in front of him as he marched down the hall. He took a left and stepped into the kitchen. His eyes darted for the knife block then the silver gun sitting on the table. Neither were what he was looking for, because he knew what he wanted. Something that would do the most damage, something heavy and permanent.

Dean picked up a hammer from the pantry and gripped the head as he turned away from the room. He strolled through the bunker, pushing doors open and scanning the rooms as he went.

“Sammy!” Dean growled out.

The sound of heavy feet scrambling filled his ears as he strutted down the hall. The hammer swung in his hand as he moved towards the sound. He could smell sweet perfume and it registered whom it belonged to, that damn girl of his. She was probably going to scramble some kind of weapon from his room and protect herself from him. He smirked as he kicked the door open, the wood giving away and opening wide for him. He stepped in and found the room empty, a twinge of disappointment glimmered in his belly. He wanted this fight.

 “Come on, Sammy! Don’t you want to hang out with your big brother? Let’s spend a little quality time?” Dean shouted as he marched through the halls towards the sounds of heavy breathing and feet scuffling. The lights went out then a dark red hue filled the room with the sound of the alarm blaring in his ears and rattling his brain. He could see outlines of everything around him as he backed into the hall. He flipped the hammer in his hand and headed for the control room.

He picked up the sounds of keys jangling and a door swinging open then closing. Dean smirked and picked up the pace towards them.

 “Smart, Sam! Locking the place down so the doors won’t open. I get it. But here’s the thing: I don’t want to leave! Not ‘til I find you!” Dean shouted as he stared into each room as he passed by. The anger building and pushing against his brain harder every step he took. His blood swirling with violence inside of him.

“Sammy! You’re just making this worse for yourself, man!” Dean continued, “Oh, by the way, you can, uh… blame yourself for me getting loose. All that blood you pumped into me to make me human… Well. The less demon I was, the less those cuffs worked. And that Devil’s Trap? I just walked right across it. It smarted, but still I’m free.”

Dean stepped into the control room. The idea of mercy entered his brain, lock Sam in the cage that housed the breakers and break the handle so he could get the hell out. He risked the girl finding him but the idea passed quickly. He pushed the lever up and the light returned to normal.

“That’s more like it.” Dean said as he turned towards the door as it slammed shut, “That’s your big move? Locking a demon in a closet?”

“Listen to me, Dean! We were getting close! I know you are still in there somewhere. Just let me finish the treatments. I promise it will work!” Sam pleaded from the other side of the wood. Dean stood at the door for a moment and shook his head. He sighed and lifted the hammer.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice shook as Dean lowered the hammer to the door and sent splinters of wood flying all around him. He slammed the hammer into the door and pulled away chunks of wood. He could hear Sam sputtering like a shocked baby on the other side.

“Dean!” Sam shouted at him.

“You act like I want to be cured!” Dean shouted as he pulled another hunk of the wood away until there was an opening in the door, “Personally, I like the disease.”

“Dean, stop! Look, I don’t want to use this on you!” Sam shouted at he ducked down but held the demon knife in his hand higher.

“That sucks for you, doesn’t it? You really mean that!” Dean chuckled as he smashed the hammer into the door again.

“Look, if you come out of that room, I won’t have a choice!” Sam snapped back.

“Sure you will! I know which one you’ll make. Isn’t that right, Sammy? But see,” Dean smirked as he stepped back slightly, “Here’s the thing: I’m lucky. Oh, hell, I’m blessed! Cause there is just enough demon left in me that killing you? Ain’t no choice at all.”

He smashed through the door with his foot and watched as the door collapsed away. He stepped through but Sam was gone. Dean stepped out and looked around, picking up the smell of fear and anger wafting in the air from Sam then the cross breeze of the girl. He ran fingers through his hair and looked around; he picked his path and kept moving with strong steady steps.

“Sammy?” Dean strolled through the corridors. Dean’s ears perked at the sound of shoes scuffling. He turned silently on his heels towards the sound, “Come on, Sammy! Let’s have a beer, talk about it. I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game!”

Dean stalked through the hall. He knew the scent was getting stronger as he moved. The sound of gasping for air and the squelch of shoes on the smooth floor made Dean grin. He rounded the corner to find Sam, his back against the wall as he peered around the corner. 

Dean approached as Sam turned around. The hammer swung up and crashed into the wall as Sam ducked down. Sam was up quickly and facing Dean with wide eyes and a trembling mouth like the words were trapped. Sam’s arm was extended away from him. He felt the growl in his throat vibrate against something cool and sharp that rubbed against his skin. Sam stared back at him as he let go of the hammer and turned to face Sam. He watched Sam’s face as he tumbled through a thousand ideas of what to do next but he knew that Sam wouldn’t hurt him.

“Well … Look at you. Sammy all grown up.” Dean said letting the words soak in as he licked his lips and smirked, “Do it. It’s all you.”

Sam pressed the knife into Dean’s throat as his face wrinkled with indecision. His eyes darted and his mouth opened slightly. The expression on Sam’s face was filled with pain and his arms softened, retracting the blade from his throat. Dean smirked as Sam let the knife fall, sending it clattering to the floor and Dean smiled wide as he flashed black eyes.

Dean slammed his fist into the side of Sam’s head. Sam struck back and landed a fist into his jaw, making his head rattle but he stayed steady and cracked Sam in the side of the face harder this time. Sam collapsed down to the floor, cracking his head on the wall as he fell. Dean slammed his boot into Sam’s side Dean stood for a moment and smirked.

“Weak. Just weak, Sam.” Dean snorted as he stepped over Sam and headed out of the hall and into the next passage towards the door. He picked up his jacket and keys as he strolled towards the door.

 

I ran down hall as fast as I could hearing the sounds of Sam and Dean fighting. I rounded the corner and found Sam in a heap on the floor with a hammer jammed into the wall above him. I felt my guts clench harder at the realization of what happened. I dropped to my knees and skidded to his side. My hands cupped his head and tilted his face towards me. I looked for blood, his nose was bleeding but his head wasn’t. My stomach loosened slightly.

“Sammy?” I said feeling my voice shaking as I shook his shoulders. I watched his face for any sign of consciousness but they never came.

I looked up at the sound of clattering in the kitchen and darted for the sound.

 As I slid into the room, I was slammed against the wall. My head thudded against the plaster as Dean crowded in front of me. Bright white teeth flashed like fangs as I scanned his face. He was Dean; freckles, stubble and the lines around his eyes that made my heart flutter before but now it made me feel sick. Black eyes stared down at me with hatred in the absence of color, like a black hole that mindlessly consumed everything around it.

“Dean… this isn’t you.” I spoke softly.

“Oh it’s me.”

“What did you do to Sam?” I hissed.

“Nothing he didn’t deserve.” Dean smirked as he pressed his forearm into my throat and leaning into me, “You have a choice little girl…”

“De-” I pleaded.

“Come with me and we get you fixed up or I kill you.” Dean smiled softly, like it was supposed to bring me comfort but my skin crawled.

“No.” I hissed as I brought my knee up and into his groin. Dean stepped back as he doubled over. I slipped away from him. His hand grabbed my wrist as pulled me back. I flung back and smacked into the table. The wood slamming into my low back and creating a wave of pain that covered my body. I pushed through the pain and kept upright as he came at me but I struck him in the face with a fist. The hit didn’t stop him.

Dean slapped me across the face and shoved me back. I stumbled back and hit my ass on the concrete hard. I kicked at him as he came for me; landing my foot against his knee and making him step back. He smiled at me then yanked me to my feet.

“I never loved you.” Dean said as he pushed my back into the wall.

“I don’t buy that.” I growled as I stared at his face.

“I only kept you around because you are so willing to do everything I ask.” Dean smiled as he gripped my throat, “And in bed, man are you more than willing to do any filthy thing. I mean, you are so desperate to be loved that you let me use and abuse you... it’s a little pathetic."

His fingers pressed into my throat and cut the supply of air off.

“You’re a shitty hunter… you made a better demon.” Dean growled as he leaned forward.

I gasped for air and clawed at his wrist as he lifted me from the ground. In panic, I reached up and smacked him across the face, making sure my nails caught skin and tore into him. Dean hissed and dropped me.

"Fuck you, I know that this isn't my Dean." I croaked out as I glowered up at him. He smirked and licked his lips.

"Oh it’s me baby. Like it or not." Dean said as he stepped back. He glanced to the right and picked up his things. His eyes darted between the wall and me. He shook his head and glanced down at the floor. He blinked hard and stumbled back.

"Please, Dean." I said quietly feeling hope abandoning me as Dean moved for the door.

I sat for a moment and caught my breath. My body was throbbing with pain and stress as I stared forward. I felt the tears welling in my eyes as I listened to the Impala roaring alive and hauling ass away from the bunker. My hands were shaking and a sob broke through my lips and echoes out against the bare walls around me.

Sam stumbled in moments later and collapsed beside me silently. He put weak arms around me and pulled me into him. I gripped his shirt and let myself fall apart in his arms. His chin rested on to top of my head.

“We’ll get him back.” Sam said softly as he stroked my back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Jessica Ann for help and inspiration!


	4. Tarnished Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and the reader are desperate to bring Dean home, going in search of Dean can put both of them in a tight spot which forces them closer. Dean realizes too late that he has been placed in to a game in which he doesnt want any part of, but he knows that he can't go back to Sam, who can he turn to in a moment of need when everyone is out for themselves?

Dean sat at the bar with his drink in his hand. His head was dipped low but his eyes watched the mirror behind the booze lined up like soldiers waiting for battle. He watched the patrons in the bar mingling and drinking but he was waiting for Crowley.

His body was still buzzing from the fight with Sam, even though it had been four days. He left Sam bleeding and the girl gasping for air, it wasn't quite the end that he'd imagined but it was good enough for now.

"Dean Winchester... look what the cat dragged in." Crowley's voice rasped from behind him.

"I'm here... now deal." Dean said stiffly feeling the hairs on his neck bristling.

"You're a day late and a dollar short, squirrel." Crowley's reply made a bitter taste roll over Dean's tongue.

Dean parted his lips as the words began to form in his head but was cut short. 

"But, I do have an offer for you." Crowley stared at Dean as the bartender pushed the creamy white drink with the pink umbrella, orange and cherry peeking from the rim.

"An offer..." Dean snorted, "Like a fucking deal? You know I'm a demon right?"

"It's a job." Crowley gleamed as he sipped the drink, "A little wet work."

"You want me to kill someone?"

"Quick one, aren’t you." Crowley replied as he pulled an envelope from the inner pocket, leaned in and slid it to Dean.

Dean cracked the paper open and pulled out photos. There was a man in a black suit with a crooked smile. Dean flipped through the pictures, stuffed them into the envelope and looked up.

"Who is he?"

"A challenger to the throne."

"Why should I?" Dean hissed before taking a long drink.

"Because I say so... you want the Mark gone and I want him gone."

"Fine." Dean growled as he tucked the envelope into his coat.

"I saw the moose and the bitch snag you... thought you'd be chained to a chair by now." Crowley said with an amused tone.

Dean said nothing, instead taking another drink and looking over his shoulder. He expected Sam to come busting in with guns blazing and take him back.

"When you're done, meet me back here... say tomorrow." Crowley shrugged casually as he pushed an empty cup away from him.

"Whatever."

 

I wanted to spend my time in bed with the blankets wrapped over my shoulders, feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I was in the library with Sam. My fingers were split and cut as I flipped through the fiftieth lore book.

"What do you think about this?" Sam shoved a book in front of me. I stared at him and sighed as I put my best smile on then glanced down at the page. I stared at the words but couldn’t read them, I blinked then tried again. I stared up at Sam and dropped my mouth open.

“I think I am having a stroke.” I said as I squinted up at him. Sam smiled and shook his head as he took the book back.

“It’s in German.” Sam smiled as he pointed to the photo on the page. I leaned in and stared at the image of a little creature sitting on a woman’s back as she rested. The face of the monster was warped and swollen looking with fangs bared and squinting black eyes.

“An alp.” Sam said as he puffed his chest up excitedly.

“And that is?” 

“It’s like an incubus or a vampire. It can cause hallucinations and nightmares as well as erratic behavior and violence.” Sam said sitting beside me in the chair.

“But this is happening to him during waking hours not just his sleep.” I said staring at Sam. He chewed his lip and nodded.

“It was something.” He shrugged as he sighed out his reply.

“I am telling you that it has to be a mara… and I mean you aren’t far off but it’s the only monster that makes sense.” I explained as I flipped through the pages of the book in front of me.

“This one had a way to kill it…” Sam said looking at me with irritation painting his face. The bruise on his cheek was an ugly green/yellow color but it made his eyes seem a little more brilliant than normal.

“Sam, we’ll figure it out.” 

“I know.” Sam sighed and stood up again. He moved away from the table then turned back to me, “We need food and coffee.”

“I’m not hungry.” I shook my head as I flipped through the pages.

“I didn’t ask you if you were hungry.” Sam paused and stared at me before continuing, “I am telling you that we are going to get food.”

“Sam.”

“No.. come on or I will carry you.” Sam said firmly. 

I rolled my eyes and grumbled under my breath as I pushed away from the table and followed Sam out into the hall.

“We are going out… we need a break.” Sam said firmly, as we climbed into the car.

“Wow, Mr. Research saying we need a break.” I teased, “If I wasn’t paying attention, I’d think you were Dean.”

“No, I just know when I am spinning my wheels and need a timeout.” Sam’s voice was tight as the words came out. His arm extended back and pulled me up beside him. I sat quietly beside Sam, wanting to pull my phone out and keep working but really I didn’t want to think about Dean too hard. Worrying about him made me sick and shaky, I was scared that he was doing something he’d regret or worse something that would get him killed.

“Stop thinking about him.” Sam hissed as he wheeled the car into a parking spot outside of the Village Cafe. Beside us were two white utility vans, I sighed and slid out from the  
seat. I followed Sam into the diner then sat across from him. A waitress with silver hair and hot pink lips dropped menus in front of us. 

“Drinks?” She asked sounding irritated by our existence.

“Coffee.” Sam said smiling up at her to which she frowned.

“Iced tea.” I said looking at her as she smiled insincerely. She trudged away and disappeared behind the counter. I looked at Sam who was already staring at me, “Wow.”

After ordering; a salad for Sam and a sandwich for me, we sat quietly. I stirred my tea with my straw. I glanced at the other patrons and noticed the table across the room was staring at us. 

Three men were watching us closely, they were built like what I imagined an over worked blue collar dad, round with a moustache and a sprinkling of grey hair mixed into brown looked like, but they glowered over and made my blood run cold. I leaned into Sam’s space and touched his hand.

“I don’t think we are welcome here.” I whispered as I glanced at the table of three men again. Two of the men rose from their seat as the third followed suit but headed for the front door. Sam glanced back as the men approached our table.

"Can we help you gentlemen?" Sam asked confidently as he looked up. The look on his face was so smug it hurt and forced an unnecessary smile to stretch across my face. 

"The king wants to deliver a message to you both." The man said as he stared down at us. His buddies stood flanked at his sides with tight jaws and clenched fists.

"And what does that leprechaun want now?" I asked before taking a sip from my drink.

"Stop looking for Dean. He doesn't want to be found." The man to the right barked at us.

"Not gonna happen." Sam replied as he glanced from me to the three men.

"If you don't he'll have no choice other than to use force to make his point." The ringleader said with a flat tone. 

"Bring it on." I said as I made a mental note of all the weapons I had on my person. I felt my insides clench as Sam rose from his seat and towered over the man. 

"You won't do a damn thing to us." Sam said firmly. His shoulders were broad and tense as he stared down at the man. 

"What makes you think that?" The man asked 

"You'd have done it by now." Sam smirked as he jabbed the man's shoulder, "You're on strict orders... you can't do jack shit."

"I'll break your fucking hand." 

"No, you won't. " 

"You're being watched. Back off or we will act." The man said gruffly before he looked to me. 

"Can I enjoy my meal?" Sam asked coldly. 

The men said nothing but went to their table, still watching us. The waitress brought out food in to-go bags with a sneer on her lips. Sam dropped a 20 dollar bill before we rushed out to his car.

After a silent ride back, we went to work again. The push from Crowley made it apparent that we needed to figure this out and fast. Sam scanned the lore books while I examined  
all the Letters files for anything we might have missed. We spent hours doing this until my eyes were blurry and Sam had crashed into the spine of his book and was snoring  
lightly. 

I sent him to bed and did the same. I changed into Dean's dirty shirt and long plaid pants. I curled into Dean's big bed and felt so small. I was alone and missing Dean so much it hurt. I tried to close my eyes so sleep could take me but it didn't happen. 

I tossed and turned then stared at the ceiling. I imagined what Drean was doing, probably drinking and flirting with prettier girly girls who'd never had to shovel a grave or slice  
through flesh and bones. Innocent girls. 

I flopped on to my belly and sighed until I rose from my position of belly down. I got up and headed out the door 

I listened to my barefeet pitter pattering as I hurried to Sam's room. I stood outside his room and stared at the door for a moment before pushing the door opened quietly then slipping into his room. 

Sam was stretched across his bed. His head was pressed into the pillow with his hair acting as a curtain for his pretty face. His right arm extended out as his left was tucked into him with a long leg hanging off the bottom of the mattress and the other was bent up. 

I gathered my courage and crawled into bed with him. His leg relaxed down as he moaned a little and pulled me into his body. 

"Why are you in my bed? " he asked with a sleepy gravelly voice.

"Couldn't sleep alone... it's weird." I replied, "Maybe I'm wound up. "

“Oh. I uh… make yourself at home.” Sam said softly as he pulled me into his body tighter and nuzzled his cheek into my spine.

My sleep wasn’t restful but it felt good. Sam was warm and gentle as he cradled me in his arms. I woke up and stared at the walls of his room. I started to wonder what it would be  
like to have a normal life. No demons or constantly running on the edge of a wire between life and death. My head wandered back to Dean, fear gripped my stomach and everything in my body began to ache. 

I let out a gasp of air and gripped Sam’s arm. I heard him snort slightly then his hand flexed.

“What?” He asked groggily.

“No. Nothing.” I sputtered out and gasped for air. 

“Woah! Hey!” Sam said with a calmness in his voice that hurt to hear, “You need to relax.”

I sucked in air and gripped his arm. In my head I was telling myself to calm down but I couldn’t. My body was filled with an intense buzzing that rattled through my bones and  
made every nerve ending and muscle fiber flare in revolt. My lungs were gripped tighter than anything I had ever felt.

"It's gonna be okay." Sam's voice felt like velvet in my ears as my heart drummed faster. I gasped and nodded as I clung to him.

My skin felt static-y like there was a fine layer of current running over it and just below it, a thin film of sweat had started forming.

Sam's hand carefully and gently pulled my hands from his skin. He gripped both my wrists firmly but not too tight. I squeaked out a shallow 'no' but he didn't listen. 

"I need you to listen to me okay?" Sam said tenderly. Sam held me upright on my rear with my legs splayed wide, I felt the tension in my body shift and tighten over my chest and belly. 

I nodded rapidly gasping for air as the tightness of my chest held on. Sam felt like an anchor, something that was keeping me from... dissolving or floating away. 

"I need you to breathe. Five counts in... hold it for three then five counts out." Sam said before a smile trickling lightly on his lips, "I need you to lift your arms up too."

I listened to his words and tried to comply even if my entire body hated the idea. I followed his breaths and lifted my arms. I could hear the insidious thoughts hissing in the back of my mind. 

"You're safe." Sam's voice whispered in my ear as he placed careful hands on my upper arms. He held my arms in place as I continued to breathe as he told me.

It took a while for me to calm down. My chest hurt and I was exhausted from it. Sam pulled me back into him and rested his arms around my waist. I exhaled then looked up at him.

"Sorry." I said feeling myself shrink down.

"It's okay." Sam smiled warmly. The smile made my stomach flutter, "what uh, what happened?"

"Thinking. Over-thinking about... Dean." I whispered feeling my heart palpitate uncomfortably. 

"We'll get him back." Sam said with gusto. 

"I hope so."

The rest of the day felt like it was in slow motion. We worked on any Dean sightings and sifted through all the hunter channels we had access to. Sam made food and forced me to eat even though it all made me feel queasy. I stole a moment away and called Dean like I had done every day since he had left. I left the same voicemail begging him to come home that if he did, we would fix it.

I sat in the war room, staring at the screen of my phone. It was a photo of Dean and I at a bar. We were happy and drunk as he kissed my rosy cheek. The picture made me ache but I couldn't peel my eyes from the screen. 

The sound of crystal clinking on wood made me jump and look up. Sam towered over me, holding a decanter of scotch. 

"Drink." Sam said firmly. 

"Sam."

"You need a drink." Sam replied without a thought to the words, "Have a drink with me."

"Fine." 

Sam sat beside me then poured. He slid my glass to me then picked his up. He took a long sip then turned to me.

"Still not answering?" 

"No... I just want to know he's okay. I don't want him to be dead in a morgue and no one would be any wiser." I said clenching the crystal in my hand wishing I could crush the  
damn thing.

"Dean's fine." Sam said stiffly, "An asshole but alive"

"And we have bupkes." I sighed and took a big drink, the scotch was smooth but burned my stomach as it settled. I leaned back in my chair then turned to face him. I scanned his  
face, the dark circles under his eyes and the lines around his mouth seemed to deepen. 

I could feel something in my head trying to process. I chewed my lip as my legs pulled up in front of me. Sam wrinkled his forehead then tilted his head with confusion. 

"What are you thinking?" Sam asked, leaning into my space. 

"The Impala." I sat up and flashed a huge smile 

"What about it?" Sam asked, a little leary of my thought.

"What if we could track it?" I asked, feeling hope bubbling in my chest.

"How?" Sam questioned.

"Can we hack the.. uh.. traffic cameras and, I don't know, put an APB on the car?" I asked.

"If you want Dean to kill you." Sam snickered.

"Or some kind of software to alert us when it pops up?" I asked smiling wider.

"I can't, but maybe I could reach out to a friend." Sam said with a nod. His voice was hopeful. 

"Then we can get to him!" I said feeling giddy.

"Pretty smart." Sam grinned.

"Right!" 

There was a moment where Sam hesitated. His focus shifted from my lips to my eyes, then he leaned in and paused. Before I could react, Sam pulled away. He bolted off to the  
other room. The moment made me feel warm all over and then oddly relieved again. 

The day was spent on computers looking for a way to get a track on Dean. Sam had called Charlie and had her working on a software that we could use to find Dean. I used my computer to set up software to alert us when Dean uses his cellphones, any of them. 

Sam was checking the papers for any signs of demon activities. He would let out groans of frustration before looking up and giving me a brave face. We worked late into the night with eager minds and a renewed excitement for any new promise to find our boy and bring him home.

"It's not this easy." Sam blurted out as he looked up with a smile. He pointed to the screen and I got up rushing to his side. My eyes were fuzzy and I could feel my temples throbbing.

The screen was a map with a big red dot sitting on the map. 

"His phone is on." I said softly as.my hand brushed Sams. He looked up at me with an eager smile and shiny eyes. 

"He's not far..." Sam offered with the corners of his mouth turning up. 

"It's 6 hours from here, Sam." 

"I'm awake. Wanna go get Dean?" Sam wiggled his eyebrows as he licked his lips 

"Guess we are going to South Dakota." 

The car ride was fast, Sam blared classic rock and sang along loudly with me. He drummed against the steering wheel and laughed out loud. I could feel my heart drumming in my chest. My body was leaning closer to him as I sang along.

"In between the fifty different contacts I may have come across a fix for the Mara. It's in German but I think I can translate it." Sam said with an amazing glow to his face that I hadn't seen in so long, that it hurt. 

"That's great, babe!" I blurted out and quickly clasped a hand over my mouth. I turned slowly to look at him. 

He was leaning against the door and staring at me. 

"You should... uh, look at the road." I said with a shaking voice.

"Once we get Dean back, we can work on the Mara, then the demon." Sam said as he turned back to the road. 

Sam wheeled the car into a parking lot flooded with low orangey lights and an eerie familiar feeling grew in my belly that began swirling around faster. Sam put the car in park and took the keys. I stared up at the building; the windows were blacked out and looked like soulless vacuums waiting to pull us in. The pieces of garbage and paper pressed up against the bricked building were an unfriendly reminder of how empty the insides were. The whole place glowed with lonely resentment towards Sam and I.

"He's not going to come willingly." I said softly glancing back at Sam. Sam paused and scanned my face. He nodded and frowned slightly as he exited the car. 

We met at the trunk and Sam let me pick out the weapons I wanted and watched as I armed myself. I nodded and looked up at him. He tucked a gun into his waistband then a flask of holy water and the demon knife into his jacket. 

We moved slowly towards the doors, I could feel the hesitation in my muscles as my head began to fill with anxious thoughts. Sam stopped at the door and leaned into my space again and made my arms cover with goosebumps.

"Stick close. Don't straggle behind and if it gets too hectic, fall back." Sam said touching my face then quickly dropping to my arm. I nodded feeling dazed and fighting the urge to kiss him. Sam pushed the doors open and rushed inside with me in tow. 

My eyes adjusted to find the pale walls glowing with a reflection of the orange light spilling in from behind us. Graffiti was smeared against the colorless walls, standing out like gaping wounds. Sam moved into the building to begin hunting Dean down. 

We scanned each room in hopes for any sign of life until we reached the end of the hall with a set of rusted and rickety stairs. A safety glass window was busted and pushed a gust of wind in, scattering leaves and debris at our feet.

"Going down?" I whispered at Sam who nodded his response. 

The stairs creaked and groaned with our weight the entire way down. A familiar scent, like rotten eggs, filled our noses and gagged us. It wasn't Dean but it was demons.  
I watched as Sam's body tensed up, he switched into hunter mode as he strolled through the hall towards the other end of the building.

As we got closer the sounds of voices and laughter filled our ears. Sam didn't hesitate as he kicked the door open and barged in. The demons in the room scattered and attacked in a swift move. A cluster of demons went for Sam and engulfed him in a swarm of bodies ranging from small to large, he was the threat not me. 

Three demons attacked me from the right while one charged head on. I was punched in the face and the blow knocked me off balance. I stumbled and tried to regain my footing but another demon cut in, hitting me once in the gut, then in the jaw. A heavy boot landed in my gut and knocked me on my ass. I slowly got up only to be thrown to the floor and held down as a large woman with long chestnut color hair planted her boot into my ribs. The air whooshed out of me. I struggled to get free as the demon kicked me again. The woman groaned as her back arched towards the ceiling. 

The woman stared down at me with a confused look on her face seconds before she was engulfed in a hellish orange glow that contoured her skeleton. She crumpled to the floor and revealed Sam standing behind her. He was clenching his jaw as a demon holding my legs down sprung for him. The demon struck him in the neck but it didn’t phase him. Sam spun the knife in his hand and stabbed it into the demon's neck before he dropped him to the floor.

Clapping filled my ears as the two other demons scurried back. Sam spun on his heels and I slowly, painfully rose to my feet.

“Very good to see you, moose.” A rough voice spoke as the clicking of heels filled my ears. I peered around Sam to see Crowley standing under an over head lamp. The light encircled him giving a strange noir film feel to him which made me involuntarily roll my eyes at the over dramatic tone of it all, “Glad to see you again, girl.”

His words grated against my eardrums as I started to lurch forward but Sam’s forearm held me back. 

“Where’s my brother?” Sam hissed as he pushed me behind him.

“Not here.” Crowley grinned as he sighed and glanced around the room.

“Where is he?” I snapped.

“He left you for a reason… move on.” Crowley said with a curl to his lips as he pointed towards me, “Dean doesn't want to be found so take the hint moose.”

I watched as Crowley pulled something from his pocket and tossed it at Sam. Sam turned it in his hand, the screen catching the light and gleaming slightly.

‘It’s not that easy.’ Echoed in my head. 

“Go back to Kansas, get a dog and move on.” Crowley said slowly so the words could sink in, “If you don’t… it will be a hell of a fight on your hands.”

Before we could speak Crowley snapped his fingers and disappeared into a cloud of red smoke, taking the shells of possessed people with him. I stared up at Sam then down to  
the phone in his hand. Sam ran his fingers over the screen and let out a disheartened sigh. He pocketed the device and looked over to me. Pain ran through my bones as I stood still, it was bruised ribs for sure and I would have one hell of a bruise on my face. But there was foreign pain that I couldn't identify.

“I think I need stitches.” I said softly as the realization that there was blood slowly creeping down my cheek. Sam smiled but it wasn’t real, “We’ll get him back, Sammy.” 

“I know.” Sam nodded as he dropped his head. 

As we left the building, I felt hope being siphoned from my spirit. 

“I don’t think I can make it back to the bunker. We should just crash here.” Sam sighed as he closed the door to the car. He dropped the phone into the seat beside us. My eyes followed the device, wanting in the back of my mind to turn it on and try to find any clues it could have inside.

“Here?” I asked confused.

“Yeah.”

“In the car, in a vacant lot?” I asked feeling oddly exposed at the thought. I stared at Sam’s face, I could see the anxiety in his eyes and the exhaustion settling into the lines around his mouth.

“Where are we gonna go?” Sam hissed at me. 

“I saw a motel a few miles back… I’ll pay.” I said feeling sheepish. It was rare when Sam made me feel like I was a burden but this time I knew in the back of my mind I was being a  
pain but part of me didn’t care. I wanted a bed and a shower not to mention a more sterile environment for Sam to put stitches into my face.

“Fine. Whatever.” Sam snapped back with a sourness to his voice.

Sam peeled out of the parking lot and headed back in the direction we had came from. He cut into a parking lot and stopped in front of a Gas n Sip. He slipped from the seat and disappeared inside the store. I sat quietly watching Sam’s large body moved through the store. He pulled some things from a shelf and tucked another under his arm.

I picked up Dean’s phone and turned it on. I glanced up to see Sam opening a cooler in the store. I scanned Dean’s recent contacts then moved on to text messages only to come up empty on both of those. I gritted my teeth and opened the browser history. The only things I could find were hits to XXXhub and the University of South Dakota. I glowered at  
the phone then looked up to see Sam stepping out of the convenience store with a sour look on his face. I locked the phone and tossed it back to the seat. 

Sam sat beside me and sighed.

“Any luck?” His voice was looser, the tension gone as he smiled at me.

“No. He’s been cruising porn and finding a fake location to send us but nothing.” I sighed shaking my head. 

“I got provisions and whiskey to clean that cut.” Sam nodded towards the bag between us.

“I believe the motel is just down the road.” I said softly. I dug into my jacket pocket and pulled out the wad of money stuffed down in there. 

“I got it.” Sam said putting a hand up and giving me the smile that made my belly erupt into a flurry of butterflies.

Sam and I rode an elevator up to our room. The cheapest was a single queen and frankly that was fine with me. Sharing the bed with Sam wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. My insides were oddly excited, bubbling and spinning as we reached our floor. Sam stepped out and scanned the hall. He reached back and took my arm in his hand gently. He led me to our room and closed the door behind us, making sure to lock the deadbolt and chain. 

The room was small and quaint with a bed covered in a dark comforter. Sam dropped the bag from the gas station as well as his own duffle bag. I dropped the duffel bag filled with my things on the table and ran my fingers over the cheap wood. I looked up in the mirror and flinched at the horror show looking back at me, blood had dried on my cheek in a long thick line, my lips was swollen and a patch of deep reddish purple was pooling around my jawline. I pushed the hair clumped to my face back and winced when it pulled at my scalp. 

“Bathroom, now.” Sam’s voice was rough as I glanced back at him. He held up the medical kit then stepped into the bathroom. I slowly followed him into the small room, there was a thick marble looking countertop with a sink.

“Sit here.” Sam patted the countertop beside the army green kit with large gashes in the paint and little dings across the top and the bottle of whiskey sitting beside it. I pressed  
my back against the ledge and gave a little jump but my butt barely caught the edge. My feet hit the linoleum floor with heavy thuds, I gritted my teeth and looked up at Sam. He gave me a sympathetic look then gripped my side and lifted me up. I was level with his face as he scanned my face.

“I’m gonna clean the blood off then go looking for the source.” He said with a tenderness to his voice. His hands trembled slightly as he went for a washcloth. It was the pent up adrenaline from the fight with the anticlimactic ending that left us both wanting something more. I knew that Sam wouldn't botch this and leave me mangled, Sam always had a steady hand any other time. 

“Here.” I said picking up the bottle and cracking the cap.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need it.”He said with a small smile.

“Not just me.” I said putting the bottle to my lips and throwing back the alcohol. I felt it burn going down my throat and hitting my stomach, “You need it too.”

“I’m fine.” Sam said with an offended look on his face. I stared at him, scanning his features. A sharp jaw line with stubble sprinkled along the bone. His cheekbones were sharp  
and high on his face. My eyes fell to his lips as he parted them ever so slightly, thin and pink that looked petal soft with the trace of white teeth behind them hinting at the danger that lurked there. He smiled softly with a grin that made my heart clench. Perfect white teeth and adorable dimples were holding my attentions until the smile faded. Sam stared back at me with intrigued eyes, as I let my own eyes meet his. His eyes were unplaceable like a turning leaf in the beginning of fall. Not quite green but not quite gold, they were mesmerizing and still something so distant. I felt my body lean into him but he pushed me back. 

I righted my body and sat still on the counter still caught in the daze that was my overactive brain.

I sat quietly as Sam wiped my face, his thick fingers were gentle as he dragged the cloth across my skin, cleaning the blood and grime from my face. I stared at his mouth feeling the urge in my stomach to kiss him getting stronger. I put the bottle to my lips and took a swig. Sam chuckled slightly then took the bottle from me. He took a drink then placed it on the counter next to me. I picked it up again and took another, even longer swallow of the caustic liquid that seared my insides and warmed my bones.

“I uh, I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Sam said quietly as his warm breath washed over the damp skin near my throat, “I was kind of an asshole back there.” 

“It’s okay.”

“No. It’s really not.” Sam said hushed as I took another drink from the bottle only to have him take it away from me and take another one for himself, “I just really hoped this would be it.”

“I know. I did too.” 

“This is gonna pinch.” Sam said with a tight voice as he pinched my skin and pushed the needle through before I could get ready. He pulled the string through my skin and hesitated.

“What now?” I asked quietly.

“We start at square one.” Sam replied.

“Ow.” I hissed as he tugged at the string. 

“Stop whining… this is nothing.” Sam teased with a smile that made my heart hammer a little harder in my chest.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered out as he knotted off the end then snipped the excess.

“For what?” 

“Everything.” I said squeaking out as my sore cheeks rose with an embarrassed smile. I could feel the liquor working through my system and leaving my skin flushed. 

Sam’s hand cupped the side of my face and tilted it up towards him. My head spun and every nerve fired up sending waves of excitement through my system.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” Sam said with a firm voice and soft eyes, “You have nothing to apologize for.”

I swallowed hard and made eye contact with him. Without thinking or hesitation, I leaned in and kissed his lips. I felt Sam freeze up but only for a second until he relaxed. His fingers curled into my skin as he kissed me back. I scooted to the edge of the counter and curled my legs around his waist. Sam's other hand ran up my back and curled my shirt tightly in his fist. 

The kisses went from something innocent to a greedy need for more. Sam’s hands pawed at my back as we kissed. His kisses were more emotional, more passionate than I had remembered as if something inside of him was pushing out and yearning for more. 

He scooped me up from the counter and packed me into the main room. My body bounced in his arms as he walked. My hands gripped his shoulders and I smiled up at him as he set me gently on top of the bed. I pulled at the collar of his shirt to bring him down to my level. He kissed me again, then backed me onto the bed with his body.

“You never have to apologize to me.” Sam said softly before kissing my chin, his lips moved across my skin and down my throat, skipping over the bruised skin and landing on my collarbone. His fingers pushed the material of my shirt up and let his hands wander over my ribs making me wince a little.

" 'm sorry." Sam murmured against my lips . My legs hooked behind his knees and kept him in place, ignoring the pain and pushing myself against him. Sam let out a groan as he pushed back. The sound made my whole body shudder with anticipation, as if it were a drug that I was addicted to. 

He hand gripped my side and held me to the mattress. I wanted to grind against him and get a growl out of him again. Sam's mouth had found its way past the bunched up t shirt I was wearing to the bare skin of my stomach. 

Sam's lips were gentle as he kissed on my belly towards the button of my jeans before stopping. He came back to meet me with a grin on his face that made his dimples seem deeper. A slow pink tongue darted over his lips and wetting them which caused my heart to beat faster than before. 

I took stock of his expression as he hovered over me. Bright eyes with a hint of mischief in them. Sam dipped down and kissed me again, this time the hand that had held me down pulled the button of my jeans loose and slipped inside of the jeans between the denim and the thin ridiculously girly panties I was wearing. Two fingers pushed the material against me and forced a soft exhale from my lips. 

My arm wrapped around his shoulders and held tight as he worked my panties against me. My hips jutted forward and grinded against his palm. I felt Sam smile against my lips. Sam hesitated for a moment then pulled back. 

I stared up at him feeling horror run through me. 

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He asked with a sweetness to his voice that almost seemed fake. My blood was pushing through my veins as I nodded. I grabbed his shirt and kissed him again. 

He pulled his hand from my jeans and pushed them off my hips. My hands pulled the neck of his shirt over his head. Sam moved to let the shirt slide off him. Sam shook his head and scattered strands of lush hair across his face. His chin raised in time for me to kiss him again before he pushed my shirt up and over my head. 

He kissed over my chest and down my ribs as his hands gripped then stroked the sides of my hips. My legs were shaking with anticipation as he reached the hem of my panties. I watched as he curled his fingers in and yanked them down. 

I let out a groan as he skipped over the good parts and touched his lips to my inner thighs. Sam's hand pushed my legs wider before slipping two fingers inside of me. 

My hips lifted from the mattress as I sucked in air and clenched his fingers. Sam kissed his way up my thigh to between my legs. His tongue was smooth against my clit as he lapped between aching folds. 

My mind went blank as he sucked and licked while his fingers pushed inside of me slowly teasing me. I ran fingers through his hair when he quickened the pace of his fingers. I let out a louder moan and dropped my head back to the bed. My muscles were wound tight as Sam worked me over. I felt myself beg for more and gripped Sam’s hair. I felt the burn of my ribs a faint ache in my chest as I cried out.

Sam pulled away from me before I could come, leaving me shaking and panting for breath. Sam backed off the bed as he quickly pulled his jeans from his hips. I heard the denim and belt hit the floor as he crawled back on the bed. His hands lifted my legs as he rested them around his waist. He folded over me and pressed his lips to mine.

“Please.” I said breathless before he kissed me again.

Sam pushed inside of me. My legs tightened around him as he slowly started thrusting deeper. My hands ran over his shoulders and neck as I pulled him down to kiss me again.  
This was a different Sam than I remembered, he was tender and almost romantic as he kissed me. I moan rolled out of my mouth as I pushed my mouth against his shoulder.  
Sam’s hand slid under my back as I gripped his shoulder.

“You’re… fuck you’re perfect.” Sam moaned out.

His mouth was soft as he kissed my lips and throat. The feeling of hot heavy weight pressed on my insides and growing heavier with each thrust. Sam’s fingers pressed into my shoulder as he picked up the speed behind his hips. My heart was drumming loudly inside of my ribs and filling my ears with heavy hard thumps. I sucked in air and whined as  
Sam slowed himself, pulling out of me then thrusting back inside. 

“Sam! Please!” I begged as he put lips to my neck and sucked on my skin. The heavy weight was crushing me as my legs began to shake violently. It felt like my insides turned to molten lava and was burning away at every inch of me. The weight began to crackle away while Sam thrusted harder inside of me. 

I gripped his shoulders tight as Sam gasped. His hips pumped erratically before he pushed all the way inside of me. My body shook and my bones became limp in his arms. His forehead pushed against mine as he pumped three more times. 

Sam fell to my side, leaving an arm draped over my middle. His hand pushed his hair away from his face as he exhaled.

 

Dean was waiting outside of a small office space with his jacket zipped tight to keep the cold from getting to him. He scanned the dark parking lot for any sign of movement but saw nothing except headlights occasionally passing. He had to wait until the right time to attack. The last person out had left 10 minutes prior and the cleaning crew would be there in 30 minutes. It would give him plenty of time to get in, slit the man’s throat and gut him with the First Blade and be gone without a trace.

Glancing down at his watch, he sighed and turned towards the door. He slipped in the front door and made his way through the hall. There was a large room just off the hall that was darkened with a table and chairs tucked neatly into it. Dean moved faster down the hall for the light that was spilling over the grey carpet. He could hear the faint sound of a keyboard clicking with purpose, it was the same way that Sam typed when he was angry.

Dean pushed the door open to find a man with dark hair pushed back and cropped close on the sides. His suit was a charcoal grey which made the white button down look brighter. 

The man looked up and smirked as recognition flickered in his eyes. Dean grinned feeling a fizzle in his veins as the man pushed away from the desk.

“Dean Winchester.” The man spoke with a cool voice as he smirked, “I am very surprised to see you here.”

“Just doing my job. You’re a hard man to track down.” Dean said as he ran his tongue over his lip.

“Crowley sent you.” 

Dean nodded still wearing the smirk on his lips. His target was in his sights and now he had to kill. The idea of the kill made his blood sing and the Mark burn with an angry hunger.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Dean… You don’t wanna do this.” The man growled out low in his throat. His fingers pushed the buttons on his shirt open and away from his throat before he shrugged his jacket off and rolled the sleeves up. He stepped out from the desk and moved for Dean in a non-threatening manner. Dean reached into his waistband and pulled the First Blade from the back of his jeans, where it had been stashed carefully.

“I’ll make you a deal. I tell you why Crowley sent you here and you can decide if you really wanna ‘do your job’, sound fair?” The man said quietly. Dean gritted his teeth and stared at the man, he weighed the options in his head.

“I’m not this… vessel. A modeling agent from Phoenix but I am something greater.” The man spoke with a fluidity to his voice that reminded him of a dictator speaking to the masses, “I have been on the front lines, brought cities to the ground and seen the angels fall- before you and that brother of yours were even in the cards.”

The man leaned against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, “The Aztecs called me Mictian. I was the right hand to Lucifer.” 

“I really don’t care.” Dean groaned as he gripped the handle of the first blade.

“Crowley only wants me dead because there is a new movement. Whispers that people are unhappy. The utterings that Lucifer is coming and it has him trembling.” the man said smiling, “You don’t have to be his little bitch.”

The action had been set in his bones and muscles as he moved for the well dressed man in front of him. He slammed a fist into the demon's cheek and rocked the man off balance.

The demon rose to his feet with a sinister smile as Dean centered himself. He felt the anger dropping dead center in his belly and swelling outward. 

The demon attacked with a right hook and an uppercut that Dean dodged. Dean felt his body moving like he was in water. He blocked each punch and hit like it was nothing more than a breeze pushing against his skin before retaliating with hard punches and a kick to the man's gut. The man growled as deep red flashed over brown eyes. Dean turned the First Blade in his hand and stood with his legs wider apart. The demon snickered and wiped the blood from his nose.

“You really don’t know what you are dealing with do you, kid?” the demon laughed. Dean forced the blade up and sliced across the man’s chest cutting open the shirt and letting out the deep orange of hellfire out from his skin. The man snarled and clenched his fist. Dean felt a twisting in his guts that rocked him on his heels. Dean took another slice at the man but missed as the man ducked and moved out of the path of the blade. 

Dean spun on his heels in time to get a hard soled boot in the gut. The blow didn’t hurt but it did cause him to growl. Dean charged and grabbed the demon's shirt, he ripped the man down and slammed his face into Dean’s knee then tossed him back. Dean stood over the man who was curled on his side with his hand over his mouth. 

The demon turned towards Dean and opened his palm. The action knocked Dean back and into the desk. The First Blade flew from his hand as his skull collided with the wood. The demon got to his feet and dusted his shirt off.

“This is an Armani shirt, you heathen.” The demon shot back with a haughty tone.

“I’ll make sure they bury you in it.” Dean growled as he pushed off the desk and went for the man across from him. 

“Stop.” The demon said putting a finger up and Dean lifted from the ground and was thrown back into the wall. Bits of plaster and paint dusted over Dean’s face as he fell to the floor. The demon strolled casually over to Dean.

“You’re going to listen to me, boy.” He said grabbing the front of Dean’s shirt. He slammed a fist into Dean’s jaw then did it again before he lifted Dean and slammed him on the desk. 

“Bite me.” Dean groaned out as he wrapped his hands around the demon's wrist.

“You’re not my type… but that girl of yours, she could be.” The demon smirked. Dean felt something inside of him twist sharply, “You’re going to run along with your tail tucked between your legs and tell Crowley that Ramon says hi.”

Ramon stepped away from Dean but Dean could still feel weight placed on his chest. 

“I’m going to leave you with a parting gift, Dean.” Ramon said as he moved around the desk and pulled a jet black box from the desk. He lifted a device from the box, something circular and metallic. He turned it in his hand and smiled then looked to Dean.

“You are the reason for Lucifer to walk this wasteland. You have to be the one to bring him back.” Ramon said as he grabbed Dean’s shirt and ripped the cotton apart. He pushed the material off of Dean’s chest exposing the anti-possession tattoo on his chest. The scent of burnt flesh and boiling blood filled Dean’s nose as he let out a shout from pain. Hellfire erupted across Dean's chest and over his shoulder; a brutal deep pain that he had never experienced before.

"You have two days before I strike. You know where I am going.” Ramon's voice was smooth like glass as he retracted the device but left the aching burn deep in Dean’s skin.  
Ramon stepped away from Dean and went back for his jacket.

“I am going to fucking kill you.” Dean snapped as he tried to get off the desk but he couldn’t. His body was being forced down. He groaned and clenched his fists. 

“Don’t get up.”Ramon said snickering. He picked up the First Blade and placed it on his chest, “Don’t hurt yourself 'lil killer..’”

Dean heard the sounds of his boots clicking against the wood. The door closed and the pressure evaporated. Dean sprung off the desk, gripping the blade and hauled ass for the front door. The night air stung as it touched the brand on his chest as he moved through the parking lot. Dean shouted and turned to face the building. He could feel the places where his face had been cut and the bones in his ribs had been broken. 

Dean huffed out and dropped his head, he pulled the scrap of fabric that had draped over the burning skin on his chest. The black anti-possession tattoo was marred with a glowing orange gothic looking symbol over the flesh. Dean hissed as his fingers grazed over the smooth skin.

 

I woke up with the sun shining in through the window. Sam’s arm was draped over my chest as he slept face down quietly next to me. I carefully pushed his arm down to the mattress forcing him to roll on his side. My legs were cold as I pulled them up into the blankets then curled against Sam’s back. His body was warm and soft as he slept. I ran my fingers over his skin and watched as he flexed the muscles. I carefully leaned in and pressed my lips between his shoulder blades.

Sam groaned then turned to face me. His face was scrunched up as brown hair fell over his eyes.

“Morning.” I whispered quietly.

“Mmm… good morning.” Sam said with a sleep-laden voice.

Sam pressed his lips to my forehead. He slipped his arms under me and pulled me tight against him. I rested my head against his chest and took a big breath in.

“How are your ribs?” Sam asked softly.

“Sore.” I said taking another deep breath in, I felt the muscles and bones moving under my skin.

“I bet.” Sam chuckled.

“Last night?” I asked but unsure how to word what I wanted to say.

“Yeah.” Sam said running his hand down my back, “You know that I like you.”

“I like you too!” I said looking up at his face and smiling wide.

“But you and Dean… I know it’s complicated.” Sam said with a disheartened voiced as he loosened his grip.

“Don’t. Not now.” I said, pulling him back to me. Sam’s head rested in the crook of my neck where he placed a few small kisses.

“We can’t tell Dean.” Sam uttered as my hands ran down his side and across his belly.

“Deal.” 

Sam lifted his chin and stared down at me, I kissed his lips and smiled against them. 

Sam and I spent a chunk of the day in bed. We fooled around and slept until mid afternoon with the justification that we needed the rest. 

As I showered, Sam packed our things into the trunk of our car. He sat on the bed as I dressed, watching me with a smile on his lips. He pulled me into his lap and wrapped me in his arms. He groped me as he kissed my shoulders.

"We gotta go, Sam!" I laughed out and squirmed.

"The car has a back seat." Sam growled into my ear. 

"Sammy!" I laughed as he pinched my nipples. 

"I can't help it... you're intoxicating." Sam whispered in my ear. I pushed my ass against him and leaned back to soak up the attention. One hand moved from my nipple to between my legs.

Sam's pocket rang making me jump. Sam groaned as he let me go. I stood and faced him feeling the flush over my chest and cheeks. Sam frowned and put the phone to his ear.  
I finished getting dressed as Sam took the call. He jotted something down and thanked the caller before turning to face me. 

"How does New Orleans sound this time of year?" Sam grinned at me.

I felt a pit in my stomach. 

Dean.

I just nodded silently as Sam picked up my things then took my hand. My legs felt weighed down as I followed him. 

We hurried back to the bunker to get clothing and more weapons as well as Sam's laptop and the Germanic text that would rid Dean of the Mara.

The idea of Dean finding out made my stomach knot up. It made my palms feel sweaty and my temple begin to throb. I thought about him freaking out and beating Sam bloody. 

"We have about 16 hours before we are there. We can trade and you can drive the last half?" Sam said with a chipper tone to his voice that made my heart ache. 

The drive was uneventful. We passed through small towns and across the plains of the midwest. Sam sang a bit as I stared out the window. 

I was trapped in my head, I knew how I felt for Dean. I loved him. But I felt the same for Sam. Could I choose between them? I didn't want to choose, I wanted them both in my life.  
Maybe even in my bed but I knew that Dean would never go for it and I highly doubted Sam would. 

"Can you drive?" Sam's voice cut through the clutter in my head. I turned and looked at him with a smile as I nodded. Sam wheeled into a gas station in the middle of Oklahoma. As  
we gassed up and traded seats, Sam grabbed me to pull me back in front of him. He cupped both sides of my face and kissed me. It was filled with fire and passion that made my knees weaken. My hands held tight to his wrists. It felt good to let this happen between us, to let Sam treat me like I was his alone.

I drove as Sam slept soundly beside me. My brain was filled with ideas and images of it’s own creation. The idea of Dean with black eyes punishing us for what we’d done. Sam dying in my arms. I shuddered at that thought and focused back on the road. Wild Horses was playing softly on the radio as I followed the yellow dashes on the highway. My hands gripped the steering wheel as I took us towards Shreveport.

As I gripped the steering wheel, I wheeled us to the outskirts of the city. The sky was dark blue with the faint traces of gold barely wisping over the horizon. Like a sweet whisper that morning was coming.

I could see the twinkle of the city lights in the distance. My head ached, throbbing to the rhythm of the lights as we approached them. I wanted to sleep, hell I needed it. I wanted to turn the car around and head back to Kansas, tell Sam that the lead was a bust and we would keep trying. But deep down something was pushing me to do this. Motel signs filled my eyes as we passed them by. I took a deep breath and pushed the accelerator. 

“You should stop at one of them.” Sam’s voice croaked out as he shifted in his seat.

“What?” I said feeling myself jump.

“Stop there. We’ve been on the road for hours and I can’t sleep in this cramped ass car.” Sam groaned.

“Then stay awake. Talk to me.” I said glancing over at me, “I mean, we are only five hours from our destination.” 

“Fine.” Sam grunted as he rubbed his eyes, “So, the lead takes us to this house off the highway. It’s kind of in the bayous but I can navigate us in.”

“And we are sure this is a solid lead.” I said looking over at him feeling the nerves in my belly wrap tighter.

“Best one we have got in a while.” Sam replied.

I nodded and kept going.

“So, we can get to the house and do a sweep.” Sam said with a gentle smile.

The next five hours were spent talking about everything. Sam shared his fears and desires, we traded the idea of committing to the life with no fear. I told him my fear of doing this but for nothing in return, that what we do doesn't make a difference. Sam nodded silently with the thought resonating. 

As we hit New Orleans, the sun was coming up, cresting over the horizon and painting Sam's face with oranges and pinks that made him look like a goddamned model as he stretched in the seat between me. He was handsome even when he was tired. The weight of sleepless nights not pulling him down but highlighting how beautiful he was. Just like his damn brother.

New Orleans has a special feeling that covers you the second you hit the city limits. There is mystery and magic in the air. A dark arcane past that took your breath away as it wrapped you in a thin, dark, gossamer veil. You could see it in the buildings, hear it in the voices of the locals and feel it in the music that echoed through the streets at night.

"Follow the road here." Sam said pointing. I turned the wheel and steered off the main drag of the city. I glanced over at him and took a breath.

The city faded away and turned into trees with houses lining the road. But the houses became sparse and the water line began to reflect the morning sun into the car.

"There will be a road on the right, turn there and follow it until you can't." Sam said softly as he tucked his phone into jacket.

"Okay. Should I stop before the house?" I asked quietly feeling my heart began to thump a little faster. 

"Yeah. We don't know what we are walking into. If Dean's-" Sam hesitated with a hint of pain in his voice, "With Crowley, he could have a fucking horde of demons with him."  
I nodded as he rambled down the dirt road as it kicked a dust trail up behind us. 

I stopped far enough back that the house was visible but we were still hidden. I pulled it to the side then hurried to the trunk. Sam armed himself well with the demon knife, an angel blade and shot gun. I took the same but added holy water. 

"Move through the woods. Stay close and follow my lead." Sam spoke low with purpose in his voice. I nodded and took a deep breath. 

Sam and I rushed towards the house. The lights were on but there was little movement inside. The house itself was quaint, one story building with white paint and deep blue shutters. The kind of place I once dreamed of living in after retiring. 

Sam trotted towards the back door as I peered in through the window. The house was well kept with dark hardwood floors and a clean white linen draped over the kitchen table. I heard Sam clear his throat softly to get my attention. I ducked down and rushed to his side.

He pointed inside of the house and ran his hand across his throat, telling me that the place was vacant. I frowned but nodded. I was amped for a fight. We walked back for the woods towards the car.

"We'll come back later." Sam said softly.

"Who gave you this info?" I asked feeling the pickle of suspicion at the base of my brain. This was a set up.

"Hunter named Dale. He was tracking a Rugaru through here and came face to face with Dean." Sam said as he stamped down a large branch making it crackle.

"Hmm." I said as we cut onto the road. My head was plotting our next three moves. Sam got behind the wheel and backed us out of there. 

We sat at the motel as the cheap television played some television show detailing how things were made. I felt my eyes beginning to glaze over and my brain turning sluggish. Sam was hunched over his laptop as he clicked away and flipped pages intermittently. 

"I'm gonna do a run." I said standing up and heading for the keys.

"I can go with." Sam offered. 

"Nah. I got this." I replied smiling. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into him. He stretched up and kissed me. 

"Don't be gone long." Sam said softly.

"I'll be back in two shakes." 

Sam let me go and I slipped out into the humid night air. I had every intention of bringing back food and beer to the room but I had to scope the house out. 

I headed for the Gas n Sip up the road, getting my cover story taken care of. I cruised the aisles and picked up the usual things that would satiate Sam and his sensible eating habits and grabbed a six pack of beer. 

As I stepped out of the gas station, a foul smell filled my nose. Bitter and sharp, rotten eggs. I moved for my car like nothing was wrong and I was a normal patron. I placed the bag in the back seat and took a big breath in.

Demons.

I spun on my heels to see three men coming at me. I pulled an angel blade from jacket and was quickly disarmed. A palm covered my mouth as a fist slammed into the side of my face. A sneering face appeared in my spotty vision as I let out a muffled cry when something sharp pushed against my side. I kicked behind me landing my foot into soft tissue and bit down on the hand over my mouth but they didn't stop, an arm wrapped around my throat and pressed on my windpipe.

I gasped for air and scratched at the forearm as I tried to wedge my hand between the arm. My legs started to soften as my vision grew fuzzy around the edges. The faces of my attackers seemed to blur but their eyes were black venomous pits and felt like they were boring holes into me.  
I struggled to pull air in as my legs went limp and everything was black. 

"Bitch is stronger than she looks." A hideous voice rumbled in my ears. 

 

Dean pulled into the large front yard of the ornate mansion that was in front of him. He felt his blood boiling as he pulled the keys from the ignition. The blood had coagulated on his face and knuckles which made his skin feel like it was being stretched. 

He pushed the front doors open and stormed past the three overly dressed demons to his left that were shouting at him to wait. Dean pushed the double doors and stormed in.

Crowley was sitting in an oversized chair with his chin resting in his hand. Dean watched as the room turned to look and 'the king' straightened up. 

"Dean." Crowley said with a quizzical tone that made Dean have to fight the urge to rip his smug face from his bones.

"You fucking set me up." Dean roared as he barged into the room, "Give me a fucking reason why I don't snap your fucking neck."

"Cause it would be pointless..." Crowley said with a smile as he waved his hands to clear the room. 

"I'm not playing your fucking games."

"Yes you are." Crowley said with a smirk, "You're my pawn, you buffoon."

"I'm done." Dean snapped. Crowley raised his hand and stared forward at Dean.

"Had any visions, Dean? You can thank me!" Crowley asked as he rose to his feet,"Is the job done?"

Dean sneered and clenched his fists. 

"No."

"Shame." Crowley said as he stepped up to Dean. He shook his head and frowned up at him

Dean felt the violence in his muscles before he could act. His fist collided with Crowley's cheek. 

The demon stepped back with rage in his eyes. But the rage turned into a smile that knocked Dean back without being hit. 

A swift hit to his gut knocked him to the floor. The feeling of a thousand bricks rested on his chest as the scraping of claws ripped into his skin. Dean felt dizzy with pain as he struggled for air. He could feel his skin tear and the sensation of warmth radiating down his sides.

"You work for me you little thug." Crowley leaned over Dean as he snapped, "Your job is to kill whom I tell you to because it's your job."

"Bite me." Dean hissed out with pain.

"I warned you Winchester." Crowley sneered, "Now that pretty little girly of yours is gonna pay..."

"If we're lucky we'll snag a moose." Crowley said musically. 

"Leave them out of it." Dean hissed.

"Get back out there and finish your fucking job." Crowley said as he waved his hands, the motion making the pain dissipate.

"You hurt her or Sam and I will kill you." Dean hissed.

"You can try." Crowley said stepping back to his chair, "Try 5001 Blue Ash... might have some luck."

Dean rose up and lept for Crowley but he was pulled back by strong arms. Dean thrashed and spat as he was pulled out of the room. 

Dean was thrown out on his ass with the door slamming shut in front of him. Rage slammed against the inside of Dean's chest as he got to his feet. He snagged a rock from the  
ground and chucked it at the window with a roar. The glass smashed and send it into the fancy ass house which made Dean grin maniacally.

He strolled back to the Impala and sped off. He was going to kill Ramon and then he was going to kill Crowley. The Mark was aching for violence as insidious thoughts crept through his head. His mouth was dry and he could feel his hands trembling as he went over the details of what he would do to each of them.

Dean sped down the road searching for the address he'd been given. Dean could feel his jaw aching from being clenched tightly. It didn't take long to find the location and he was thankful it was off the beaten path with no close neighbors. Sure there were houses but the properties had been abandoned since Katrina.

He wheeled into the lot with the headlights shining on the dilapidated house in front of him through the waist high grass and brush. The paint had been chipped away to the exposed boards, windows had been boarded over and tagged with graffiti multiple times. He wondered if he was walking into some gang territory and would have to fight a herd of civilian teenagers. 

He made his way to the house slowly, checking all his sides to avoid an ambush but there was nothing around him except nature reclaiming her land. Dean stepped onto the cracked cement porch and pried away the board that covered the door. 

He crouched inside of the tenement and pulled a flashlight from his pocket. He felt the filth all around him caking to his skin as he moved carefully through the hallway. 

"No! The true king would never put us in danger!" A voice boomed from the room at the end of the hallway. 

"Well its not Ramon we have to worry about!" A second voice replied, "It's the elder Winchester, if he finds out what you've done with his whore. You're dead."

"Dean's-" The voice spoke as Dean rounded the corner.

"Is what?" Dean growled out. 

Two men sat in chairs with beers, once in their hands, now spilled on their laps and the floor. One man was thin with long arms and legs draped in borrowed clothes that were too large for him. The other was an average looking guy with dirty clothing and the faint redness of scratches on his face. Both men were covered in flop sweat.

The men rushed to their feet and were ready for a fight. Dean pulled the First Blade from his jacket and gripped it tightly. He could feel the power that flowed from the weapon to his body. A connection that was sinister but intoxicating. 

The long lanky man attacked Dean first. He was all fist and fury with no true thought to his attack. He hit Dean once in the side then again in the face. Dean moved like it was a dance, each step should have been countered but wasn't, instead he was lazily hit and even a few attempts were made to kick at him but they had little impact.

Dean tired of swatting around the stupid demon who couldn't fight. He whipped the first blade up in a perfect arch then down into the chest of the man. He watched as his skin was  
turned into orange and red hellfire. He felt the burning his chest begin to rekindle as he turned to face the other man as his friends body crumbled to the floor.

"Thanks for waiting." Dean snickered as he turned the knife in his hand.

"I...I'm not going to fight you." The man's voice trembled as he put hands up.

"Oh, where is the fun in that." Dean sighed.

"Don't think I didnt hear what you and that jackass were talking about." Dean said lifting the first blade up, pointing it in the face of the dumbfounded demon.  
"Shit." 

"Yeah, you're fucked buddy." Dean shrugged as he lowered the blade but kept his grip firm on the handle.

"You dont scare me... without that blade you're all rage and no bite, Winchester." The demon bit back with a dark smile that should have made him bristle. 

"I should. Maybe you're just that stupid." Dean grinned feeling wild fire through his veins.

"Maybe you should call that whore girlfriend of yours..." The demon grinned up at him.

Dean ran his tongue over his teeth and nodded.

"Yeah, okay." Dean replied, "But you're comin with me."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Jessica!  
> Thanks for making me sound so purdy!
> 
>  
> 
> *I dont own the Winchesters but I like putting them into my plots!


	5. Gonna Leave You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driven by anger and the Mark of Cain, Dean searched to find Sammy and you.  
> Taken by demons and abused, you and Sam fight to get free...
> 
>  
> 
> Inspired by 10X10. Seeing Dean laying to Metatron was all the inspiration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has already been posted BUT it is the whole reason for this story to exist. Wanted to expand the whole idea then a bunch of plot bunnies were born and it turned into this!
> 
> Thank you to Jess for betaing and helping me tie it all together.

Dean stood over the man who was crumpled on his knees chained to the floor with shackles on each of his wrists. Blood specked his skin and covered his fingers as if he was wearing a crimson glove. The demon blade was shaking slightly in his hand as he stepped back.

"Where is she?" Dean snarled with a vicious look in his green eyes that made them appear darker.

"Oh your little whore is dead along with that piece of shit brother of yours." The man looked up and replied with a set of bloodstained teeth.

"Last chance... where are they?" Dean said with a calm voice.

"You're too late, asshole."

Dean pursed his lips and nodded slowly. He smiled and revealed all his teeth. He dropped his head for a moment then nodded and slowly looked up. Without remorse or even a thought, Dean dragged the knife across the demon's throat, blood spilled down the man's chest as a faint orange glow seeped from the wound. Dean had followed the demon to a gas station and as he was harassing girls when they came out with their purchases; he trapped him.

Dean had sliced into him good, making the demon bleed and sweat out details, where they had taken his girl (yes, you fucking idiot), why they picked her (she smelled like Winchester and tried to fight back.) and if Sam was there (oh yes, he was stuck like a pig and slowly bleeding out as they spoke.)

Dean stabbed the demon knife into the demon's shoulder. The man screamed louder, it was shrill, blood curdling as it echoed off the shack walls, and filled Dean's ears like a symphony.

"I can end this... stop the pain. That deep muscle burn, the slow building agony that seems to be setting into your bones. That hellfire that’s licking at your heels..." Dean taunted as he slowly stood up and backed off.

Stunt demon number 3 was moaning from pain, and then sucking in air to alleviate his pain to no avail. Dean spun on his heels and grabbed the knife's handle, he twisted it hard   
to the right, feeling the muscle and bones resist against the metal. The demon cried out as blood poured from his neck and arm.

Dean retracted the knife and held it steady in his hand. He could feel the violence in his insides twisting up, the Mark pushing him to do more. Plunge the knife into the demon's body and cause even more suffering. He dragged the tip from the collar bone through the cotton t shirt and towards his belly button.

"Please, kill me!" The demon pleaded with agony. Apparently, this was his breaking point.

"You know what I want, don't be a bitch." Dean mocked the demon as he pushed the tip slightly into the soft tissue of the belly.

"12572 Willow Drive." The demon panted and gave a sound that was like a whine.

"Was that so hard?" Dean said coldly as he pulled the knife back then plunged it deep into his chest. He watched the demon spark and flare a bright orange as the demon died at his feet.

Relief washed through his veins, it was unlike anything. Not even sex was this good, though it was close. He stepped back and wiped the knife on a dirty rag. He knew he had to dispose of the body but the only thing he wanted more than a fight, was Sammy and his girl back.  
*

I could see Sam in the faint light. He was strapped to a chair across the room from the bed where I was tied down with ropes that were too tight on my skin, digging it and cutting off the circulation to my bare feet. My body was weak and ached from fighting off the demons that had jumped me. No matter how good I thought I was there was too many of them. Ten demons crawled from the woodwork and ganged up on me. Throwing me around like I weighed less than a feather, hauling me up, hogtying me and dumping me in the trunk of a car.

I watched them drag Sam's limp body into the room and drop him on the floor like a sack of potatoes. His body dropped with a heavy thud that made my stomach ache with worry.

"Sammy! Oh god!" I cried out, "Sammy wake up!"

A demon with wide shoulders and a grimace painted on his face strolled over and slapped me. Pain ricocheted across my face and rattled my teeth. He turned back to Sam, slamming his boot into Sam's side. Sam's limp body rocked a little but he never stirred from his unconscious state.

I watched as he lifted Sam's body from the floor and tied him down to the chair with the same thick looking ropes that were keeping me restrained to the shoddy bed. He turned   
back to me and approached with heavy footsteps. The demon loomed over me with hatred in his eyes.

"Can’t wait to get a taste of you." He murmured as he ran a hand over my leg. Chills coursed through me, I knew what he meant and it made me sick, "hearing the sound of you begging me to stop before I kill you is going to make this worth it."

"What are you gonna do, monologue me to death?" I asked him with a calm voice, using sarcasm to hide exactly how scared I was.

"Ramon wants a pow wow... now." A voice broke into the room acting as a savior. The demon growled at me then turned quickly leaving me alone with Sam

I waited for a while before I made a peep. I lifted my head and tried to get a good look at Sam. I could see his face was bloody and swollen. Blood was on his hands and the light tan jacket. I could see him breathing as his shoulders rose and fell.

"Sam!" I hissed. I watched him, hoping he'd stir.

"Damn it Sam!" I whispered with a bite to my voice. I rattled the headboard with my hands using as much effort as I could; hearing the clacking of the boards and not caring if it alerted the pack of demons within earshot of the room. Sam barely stirred, just a slow and steady rhythm of his breaths.

"Sammy, please wake up!" I pleaded as hope began to wane. I closed my eyes and tried to keep calm. I needed a plan. I needed an exit strategy that didn't involve me being put in a pine box with Sam.

My head was spinning and filling with ideas that were quickly smothered with despair. Then a small sound, the confused and groggy groan from Sam filled my ears and my heart expanded with joy to the point of breaking.

"Sammy!" I said feeling joyful tears welling at the lash line.

"What the fuck?" He groaned and looked around wildly, "Are you hurt?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Are you hurt?" I asked as he struggled with the ropes but got nowhere.

"Where's Dean?" I asked as calm as I could.

"I don’t know. I went to look for you, I found your car and then I got jumped." Sam said with a pained voice. 

Dean had gotten progressively worse . He was unpredictable and down right scary. He had been violent with Sam, beating him to a bloody pulp then threw me around like a rag doll. But it wasn’t the actions that left this feeling of unfinished business, it was what he said at the end. The venomous words that my Dean would never say to me. The words that sounded so foreign coming from his mouth. 

After all that he said, he left me in a heap on the floor as he stormed out. But instead of giving up, this pushed Sam and I together to find a way to fix him. I wasn’t going to give up on Dean and neither was Sam.

It had been a few days since the fight with Dean. Two days in a dark room, with an uncomfortable bed as my cell. Two days of being interrogated on where Dean was holding up. Hell was looking for him and I was their bargaining chip. Two days of being hit and kicked, cut and shouted at by the demons, all of them were uglier than the one before.

"Dean doesn't know where either of us are." I said feeling my heart pick up in speed as my head worked double time.

"No." Sam said with a disheartened voice, "What have they done to you?"

"Beat me. Cut me and asked me where you guys were hiding," I said staring at his swollen face, “Looks like you know that first hand though."

"Yeah." Sam was shuffling in his seat, working the ropes looser at his ankle. Lifting his leg and lowering it.

“What are you doing?” I hissed at him, my eyes darting between him and the door, fear and dread began running cold through my body. I knew that the demon would be back, I   
knew that it would be soon and if he was loose, that demon would hurt Sam.

“Getting us outta here.” Sam said without looking up. His leg still working, up and down, “Why’d they take our shoes?”

“I didn’t think to ask.” I said softly as I watched him.

The door swung open and captain broad shoulders stepped in. Sam tensed up and shot a look to me. The burly demon came into the room and went right for Sam.

"Where's your brother?" The demon asked with an angry voice

“Probably at a bar. Maybe sleeping.” Sam said with a dry voice. He stared up at the big man with no trace of fear in his face. I felt my lungs clench as I waited for the response. The large demon leaned down to the same level as Sam, he grinned and touched Sam’s chin carefully.

“You will break.” The demon said with an emotionless voice. His fist slammed into Sam’s face over and over again, forcing out horrible groans of pain from Sam. Sam slumped over and rocked from side to side with each punch from the demon; I knew I needed to stop it. I need to force his attentions from Sam.

"Hey, didn't they tell you it's called a fair fight for a reason, asshole?" I shouted and watched the demon stand upright then turn to me. His chest heaved as he pulled in air. He headed for me. Calmly he pulled the ropes from my legs. He grabbed the waist of my jeans and began to pull them down. I kicked and bucked against him, trying desperately to keep him away from me.

“No! No! Stop!” I shrieked and fought to get him back from me.

"I going to keep my promise, you fucking whore." He said with disdain tainting his gravelly voice. He ripped the material of my jeans, tore at the waist. I was shouting and kicking him begging him to stop. He grabbed my legs and pulled them apart with one hand as the other pulled at his belt and began to push his jeans down revealing the skin of his low belly.

"Hey!" Sam shouted over us. The demon spun into the chair that Sam had been sitting in. The chair cracked with a heavy metal ringing. The demon crumpled to the floor with a large gash on the side of his face. Sam quickly started spouting Latin to pull the demon from the big man.

Sam dropped to my side and cut the ropes from my waist with a knife that he had stashed somewhere on his body. I had never wanted to hug him more than I did right then. He looked up; still speaking in Latin as he smiled then freed my arms.

"Audi nos!" Sam said taking my hand and pulling me up. The room filled with smoke as Sam put his arms around me to help me up. My legs were weak and shaking from hunger and adrenaline as we walked to the door. I clutched the cotton of his shirt like he was an anchor, the only thing keeping me from floating away.

We stopped as we heard the house outside of the room explode into shouting and pained screams that were snuffed out as quickly as they came. I watched Sam reach for the handle and a small squeak slipped out from my lips, it was supposed to be words, telling him no, wait! But nothing more than a mouse like noise came out.

“Shh!” Sam hissed at me.

Running feet came towards the room but the sound of footfalls stopped. Sam pushed me behind him. I grabbed his side, feeling it was wet and warm I pulled my hand back and close to me. It smelled like wet pennies.

"You're bleeding?" I hissed. He ignored me and pressed an ear to the wall. The footfalls stop and the place was silent. No screams or fighting. Sam grabbed my hand and reached for the door handle. Hesitation gripped my inside and I held my breath.

He pulled the door open and took me with him into the hall. We move as silently as we could. The walls were dingy and pocked with bullet holes and gaping wounds. I could feel every piece of plaster and bullet casing under my bare feet. The house was eerily silent except the water heater chugging water and the pipes rattling as if it was taking in staggered breaths.

Sam stepped into the main room with me in tow. Bodies littered the floor, blood covered and lifeless. I gripped Sam's hand and pushed close to him. He stepped over bodies headed towards the door.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice called out and was soft like a cooing dove, "Baby?"

"De?" Sam's voice softened as he stared at Dean. I let go of Sam and rushed for Dean. I threw my arms around his neck and gripped him tight in a hug. He lifted me off the ground and squeezed me tight in his arms. I let out a big breath and felt my body relax. He set me on the floor and cupped my face with both hands. I grinned up at him, seeing his face was the relief that I was so desperate for moments before.

A strong force threw me away from Dean and against the wall. My head collided into the wood and forced my eyes to spot over and my ears to ring loudly. I fell to the floor and felt my back press against the old boards that once were covered in plaster now had exposed nails and wires. Sam was forced against the wall across from me, he was groaning out in pain as he tried to fight against the iron like grip that was keeping both of us pinned. The pressure and weight against my chest made it feel like the bones of my ribs were going to break. I sucked in air to alleviate pain but it only made the pressure intensify.

“Dean Winchester.” A familiar voice crowed out of the darkness as the sound of hard soled shoes clacked against the wood. Ramon was a tan skinned man with short brown hair that was always perfectly coiffed, dressed in tight clean jeans and a tighter black shirt with a leather jacket thrown over his shoulders nonchalantly. He looked like a cheap version of James Dean with black eyes, “Nice to see you again Winchester, glad you found your way here?”

“Yeah well, maybe you should train your flunkies to keep state secrets better.” Dean said with heavy sarcasm.

“Have you considered my offer?” Ramon asked with a wicked smirk.

“You know, I’m gonna pass.” Dean replied with a twitch of anger in his throat that made the hairs on my neck rise.

“Turning against your nature. Killing your brethren. You are banging a chick like her. A damn hunter. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that the time you spent traveling with Crowley taught you nothing.” Ramon said as he clicked his tongue against his teeth in disapproval.

“What can I say? I’m a rebel.” Dean looked back and frowned at me then glanced to Sam, “Let them go.”

“No, you’re a fool Winchester.” Ramon hissed, “I can’t do that not without something in return.”

Dean took three steps towards Ramon who didn’t move. He dropped his head and his shoulders slumped slightly as he raised his left arm and touched his lips. Dean let out a sigh and shook his head. He gave one quick glance then threw a punch with his right hand. Dean followed it with a left hook then another right.

It threw Ramon off and his staggered back slightly; he centered himself and attacked Dean. Both men threw punches and kicked. Dean grabbed the shoulders of Ramon and threw him into a table, sending wood and splinters flying all around the room. Ramon landed on a female demon who had her throat slashed.

Ramon jumped up and lunged at Dean, who caught Ramon and slammed him down on to the floor. Ramon kicked his leg up and landed it into Dean’s ribs, which forced a grunt out. Dean was pushed to the side, allowing Ramon time to get up and grab me from the floor. He wrapped an arm around my stomach then pressed something hard into my throat. Sam was shouting for me to be released as the demon pulled me along the floor closer to Dean. The object pressed into my skin and forced it to split slightly, the warm blood from my neck slowly slid down my throat and between my breasts. It was painless and scared me slightly.

“You fight me girl and I will cut your fucking head off.” The demon hissed in my ear as Dean rose to his feet. I could see him breathing hard and his mouth press into a hard line the jaw muscles popped under his skin as his nose flared. Dean chuckled and dusted himself off. His face had healing cuts along his cheekbones and a red mark on his forehead.

“You think that this is a game?” Dean asked with a quizzical look on his face as his eyes flashed black.

“I’ll gut her then work on your precious Sammy.” Ramon said with no humor in his voice.

“No you won’t.”

“Then play your part Winchester, you know that the only way out of this is going to the source of all your little… visions.” The demon growled as Dean moved closer, I was   
transfixed on his eyes, once bright green and mesmerizing, were now jet black and smooth like tourmaline stone, “The river always ends at the source, Dean-o.”

“I know that Crowley keeps whispering in your ear about fixing you.” Ramon spoke with a musical tone to his voice, “I would take the Mark and remove the curse and all I will need is your loyalty when the time comes.”

Dean chuckled and shook his head.

Ramon was skittish as he tugged me closer to him and pulled us both backward. I clenched my eyes shut hard and held my breath, I was sure that a slight movement and the knife would slice through my skin.

“Let her go.” Dean said his voice was low and taut.

“Fine.” Ramon said as he pressed the knife into my skin. I let out a cry as the blade pinched into my skin and a whizzing sound filled my ears. The arm around my middle and the pressure of the knife fell away and my body felt like I was standing in a windstorm, swaying slightly on my heels.

I was dead; this was my last seconds alive.

I heard Sam gasp in relief and arms grab me.

“I got ya.” Dean’s voice was soothing in my ear. My eyes shot open and stared up at Dean. I glanced back and stared at Sam who was standing behind me.

“You wanna come home, now?” Dean asked as he stroked my hair and grinned at me. His palm pressed into my neck, “You’re bleeding, baby.”

I was sitting on Dean’s bed with my legs pulled up and crossed in front of me in shorts, one of his old shirts that was wearing thin in places with a fallen hem in the sleeve. I was clean, patched up and fed. Dean dropped the needle on the record player and the hiss of static fills the air and cuts the silence between us.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” I asked him, knowing his answer.

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Dean, the Mark has gotta go. What did that demon mean about the river always runs back to the source? ” I said firmly as he turned to face me.

He said nothing, he moved around the room, tidying up things and putting them back into place. I turned to face him and frowned.

“Don’t ignore me.” I hissed.

“I am fine.” He said with a brusque voice.

“No, you are a ticking bomb.” I said looking up at him as he approached me, “And I am scared, Dean.”

“Scared, yeah but I think that there is something that you are feeling that you know you shouldn’t.” He grinned at me as he touched my chin to tilt it up at me.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” I said swallowing hard realizing that my stomach was filled with butterflies.

“You think it’s kinda sexy when I flash some black eyes at you.” Dean smirked, “When I was kickin ass, you were turned on.”

“No, I was scared.”

“Baby, you’re not dumb.” Dean said with a clear voice as he leaned over. I blinked at him and took a breath in, “Demons can read minds… and you know that.”

“I know that you were thinking about how I could hold you down… pin that hot little ass of yours to the bed and fuck you into the mattress.” Dean growled in my ear then pulled back. His lips grazed my cheek as he grabbed my knees and yanked me to the end of the mattress.

“No, I was thinking that I didn't… wanna die.” I said swallowing and staring at his face, the curve of his plump soft pink lips as he smiled at me.

“I’m sure that thought crossed your mind.” Dean said softly as he pushed the hair away from my face. He kissed me again, his lips gently against mine as his body leaned into me.

“You’re not going to admit it no matter what I know.” He said pulling back and looking me in the eyes. I reached out and grabbed the back of his neck. I kissed him hard; I fell back and pulled him with me on the bed. He covered me and rested his bodyweight on his arms.

“Can you…?” I started to ask but he cut me off, flashing black eyes at me with a wicked grin that made my guts coil tight.

“But don’t tell Sam.” Dean said with a smoky voice.

“As long as you don’t go easy.” I replied as I pulled his shirt over his head.

“Is that what you want?” He asked.

I nodded as I bit my lip. My stomach flipped with excitement.

Dean backed off the bed.

He grabbed my ankles and yanked me down the sheets. I let out a loud laugh and shot up to meet his lips. He kissed me roughly and slid his hand around my neck. His fingers pulled at the collar of the shirt then yanked it over my head.

Dean kissed my lips then moved to my neck and shoulder. He trailed kissed down my skin to my belly; he stopped for a moment to whip the shorts from my waist and glanced up at me. He placed a kiss on my low belly then grabbed my sides with strong hands. He flipped me over and grabbed my wrists with one hand. My knees pulled up under me as I pressed my ass back into him. He let out a groan and tightened his hold on me. I curled my head to the side and watched his face as he pulled the black shorts down.

He pushed himself into me, slow and easy. I took a big gulp of air and pushed back against him. He slammed into me with a groan. I felt my lung tighten and my heart speed up faster.

“Dean!” I whimpered and tried to grab for him, “Please!”

He pumped into me harder, groaning and hissing as he gripped my ass with his fingertips. I felt my insides began to burn as I moaned out. My head was spinning and filling with half words and the sound of my blood pushing through my veins. He pushed my head into the mattress and rammed himself harder into me.

His hips stilled as he ripped me up and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed my shoulder and groaned as he found his rhythm; the stubble on his cheek grazed my neck as his teeth raked over my skin before he bit down on the muscle of my shoulder. I let out a cry and grabbed for his arms.

“This what you wanted?” He growled in my ear.

“God! Yeah, oh fuck!” I said feeling my inside winding up faster and my heart thumping faster against my ribs.

Dean chuckled and grabbed my breast hard, pulling the nipple and fumbling it between his fingers.

“Love your pussy…” He growled and gripped my belly.

“I wanna see you.” I hissed and whined as my body started shaking in his arms, “I wanna see.. Your eyes.”

Dean chuckled and let me go. I flipped over and laid back with a smile on my face.

“These?” He asked as his eyes clouded over black as he fell over me and kissed my lips. His hands scooped my legs up and wrapped them around his waist. He pushed his dick into me and thrusted deep. I whined out and grabbed his shoulders, as the tension in my body grew stronger.

“Please Dean.” I pleaded with him.

“I know… fuck baby.” Dean groaned as his head dropped down and grazed his lips over skin that was scorching hot.

My legs gripped his back and my spine arched off the bed. I felt my inside flex then release as a surge of white hot heat and relief flooded my veins, my temples were pounding the same rhythm that my heart was as I struggled to catch my breath.

“De!” My hands searched his skin as he kept pushing and pulling faster and deeper than the previous ones. I pulled a hand from his back and lifted his chin; I leaned forward and kissed his lips. My eyes focused on his as his mouth fell open into a lazy ‘O’ and he inhaled sharply. I stared at his eyes, jet black. Glossy and faceted like some rare precious jewels.

“Fuck, babe!” Dean groaned and pumped slowly into me.

Dean’s body went weak and collapsed on top of me. His head rested in the crook of my neck, his breath pushed hot against my skin as his hips shuddered against mine. His lips pressed kisses into my shoulder and neck before he lifted his head.

“That what you were looking for?” Dean growled as he kissed me.

“Yes. Yeah!” I said feeling my face flush and my eyes focused on him. He rested beside me and pulled me into him. His hands cradling my skin protectively as I moved to fit the shape of his body. I pulled his hand up to my lips and kissed him fingertips. I took a big inhale then slowly released the air trapped in my lungs to slow my mind and heart.

 

‘Babe, baby, baby, I'm Gonna Leave you….’ Robert Plant crooned with light popping and hissing from the record, ‘I said baby, you know I'm gonna leave you…I'll leave you in the summertime.’

The record filled the silence between us and made the space more comfortable. Dean kissed my shoulder as I relaxed into the bed. My eyes were heavy.

“I won’t let it get too bad.” Dean whispered as I let sleep take me away.

 

Dean woke with his heart beating erratically in his chest. He couldn't catch his breath and his hands were shaking. Her body was sleeping soundly in the bed next to him, warm and inviting. He knew that he should want to stay there with her but there was an overwhelming feeling that he needed out. He need to go as far away as he could.

The Mark on his arm was burning deeper, through the epidermis and down into the muscles. His body was aching and craving the violence as it once had before. Before Sam   
jabbed him repeatedly with purified blood and made him feel human again but he knew deep down that it had ingrained in him. Burrowed into his body and twisted with his soul.

With shaking hands and an unsteady mind, Dean grabbed his things. Pulling his clothing on in a hurry and grabbing the keys to the Impala. He could hear the words echoing in his head, ‘the river shall end at the source.’

Dean bolted to the garage, cranking the engine and hearing his baby purr loudly as he backed her out and hauled ass into the darkness.


End file.
